The Legend of Zelda: Exoria
by Sudentor
Summary: After an age of medieval rule, a modern Kingdom of Hyrule enters a chaotic war with the nations of Gerudo and Valent. Against all odds, Crown Princess Zelda finds hope in the most unlikely of persons, the mysterious Hylian Joint Intelligence Agent Link.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Render unto Nintendo the things which are Nintendo's, and unto me the things that are mine.

Disclaimer applies to this chapter and all chapters afterwards.

**The Legend of Zelda: Exoria  
By Ysionris Gavotte**

_Dedicated to Aura  
To whom I owe my great inspiration  
And who has been my pillar of support along the way_

**Prologue**

It was on a Sunday afternoon that the chief of staff to the Hylian crown princess stepped into the cobblestone path of the Nayru Garden from the vast castle halls within, a move that could've otherwise been considered taboo by means of time and location if one understood the customs of the castle. The maids, standing perimeter around the entrances to the garden, moved in, their faces reflecting disapproval, if not shock, as the chief of staff stepped into the gardens from within the castle, preparing to remind her of the privacy required in this garden behind the castle proper at this time, but a wave of a hand from her, coupled with a stern expression on her face, told the maids that she was well-aware of the rules, but the situation warranted this breaking of tradition. The maids dutifully backed down.

Although the gait of the white-haired, red-eyed, dark-skinned woman was calm, not carrying any particular sense of agitation or urgency, it was also somewhat brisk. It had nothing to do with the fact that even the chief of staff did not often visit the Nayru Garden, but that she had unfortunate news to bear. The colors of her dress, blue and purple, struck a bit of a contrast to the garden around her, consisting largely of white walls, green grass, and a myriad of flowers that were actually more red and orange in color, as if to differentiate itself from the rest of the castle, set in a whitish-blue color scheme.

The woman, however, had no time to admire the beautiful scenery of this well-maintained garden. Rather, she headed straight for the pavilion, the gazebo, at the center of the garden.

The garden was not excessively large compared to the other gardens surrounding the palace. It was, after all, a private garden for the royal family, sporadically visited by the palace staff when the occasion called for it. It was, after all, just less than an acre in size, and the chief of staff didn't need to spend any time trying to reach the gazebo – or trying to distract her own attention long enough with the lavish, natural surroundings, to prolong her journey to the center of the garden, for that matter – whereupon she laid eyes on the single figure seated within the small pavilion, a small, roofed, open-aired deck that served as a place to remain comfortably in the shade and enjoy the view and air around the garden even as the sun cruised in the skies above on such an afternoon.

The princess, her chief of staff observed, always seemed slightly different in this garden when compared to anywhere else in the palace. Perhaps, for the princess, it was the one place where the environment provided solace, a distraction from an everyday life of a crown princess forced to take the mantle of the king's duties, a respite from a stressful, if not antagonizing, lifestyle that would've broke a lesser girl of eighteen years. Of course, the chief of staff knew that such a theory was not necessarily true, not when one also observed that the princess rarely ever set foot in Nayru Garden without a folder of documents in one hand and a pen in another. Still, for one who had accompanied the princess on a journey through years since her birth, she could not help but notice the tranquility that the princess displayed when seated in the gazebo, devoid of security details or servants, surrounded by flowers and aromas while before her on the table were a personal tea set and whatever work-related documents she needed to concentrate on. Blue eyes and delicate features were framed upon pale skin adorned with long, shoulder blade-length blond hair, a golden diadem gently around the princess' head while a multi-layered dress, white, blue, and purple in color, masked her elegant, frail figure underneath.

The princess' head gently lifted as she noticed the approach of her chief of staff, the movement subtle, restrained, even as her eyes betrayed a hint of surprise and alarm, for if her chief of staff _had_ to intrude upon her privacy, matters were likely to be of great importance. Still, it radiated a strange aura of calm, one that was not easily found in an eighteen-year-old girl. It took a moment for the chief of staff to properly reflect that, one day, she would make a great queen, if she hadn't already.

Stepping onto the pavilion, the chief of staff paused just on the opposite of the table of the princess. A curtsy was made, a nod given in return, formal pleasantries exchanged, if only to delay whatever news had to be delivered. As soon as they were finished, the chief of staff stepped around the table, and somberly whispered her news to the princess.

The princess' eyes went wide. Initially, she had been looking only at her chief of staff, but, slowly, as if in slow denial, they drifted, shocked and wide, back to the table before her. She trembled a bit. Her jaw opened just a bit before closing it in an attempt to speak.

The chief of staff, her eyes reflecting sorrow and regret, placed a hand on the princess' shoulder in comfort and sympathy. She recognized the need for her lady to be alone without even being asked. She whispered some form of condolence to the princess, made sure she would be alright, and, with a final parting glance, as if looking for any sign that would inform her of the need to stay with her princess, slowly left the gazebo, headed back for the castle, not looking back in respect for the princess' obvious wish of no one seeing her in such a state.

For the maids peeking out from around the corner of the entrance and out the windows, though they could not see the tears that had begun to flow from their lady's eyes, the face that buried itself into white-gloved hands clearly told of a deep sadness and anguish, and, in shame, they all discreetly looked away.

* * *

The first time Zelda saw him, the young man was standing at attention before her even as his hands were folded behind him smartly, dressed in complete black, his shirt, jacket, trousers, ties, and shoes all of the same color – a clear indication of his position with Hylian Joint Intelligence. A pair of heavily-tinted sunglasses, predictably also black, hid his eyes from her direct line of sight, his face utterly stoic and serious. What would've been a somewhat black-and-white color scheme, a combination of suit and skin, was broken by somewhat messy dirty blond hair, long enough to be shoulder-length at the back. An earpiece was in his ear, most likely tuned to a palace security frequency…or one belonging to Joint Intelligence.

"His name is Link, your Highness," Impa did the talking for the two as she gestured in a manner that was not unkindly towards the blond, unmoving young man. "He was personally recommended by Director Leonore to be your interim bodyguard until you can make arrangements for a new one."

Zelda spared a moment as she looked up from the stack of papers on her office desk. As crown princess, she enjoyed the luxuries of a rather spacious and pristine office, which, in honesty, she felt to be rather unnecessary. All the space was wasted on the space between her desk and the double doors, and the only particular objects that were noteworthy in the room were a pair of bookshelves that flanked her desk on both sides of the room and the aforementioned desk. A regal, throne-like seat with a splendidly tall back stood at the very rear, the back of the seat, facing the window, made of very heavy metallic material to prevent potential snipers from firing a bullet through the reinforced window and the back of the chair in an assassination attempt. The office itself was rather crystalline, its material marble-like and reflecting a light, silver-ish hue bordering on blue, giving the room an almost holy aura. The architect of the room evidently chose to impress the inhabitants of the castle rather than provide practicality or pragmatism over splendor.

Her expression was carefully neutral, showing no particular displeasure or anger, but no _care_ either, as Zelda regarded the young man standing before her, before just as silently dismissing his presence, her eyes going back to the documents before her desk. He was, as far as she could tell, no one that was particularly special. He was younger than everyone else she had seen wearing all black on the castle grounds, probably only a year older than herself, but, otherwise, there was nothing about him that made him stand out when compared to every other black-laden intelligence agent. "An unusual gesture," Zelda permitted herself to say, her voice devoid of any particular emotion or stress. "To what do I owe such consideration?"

Impa worriedly looked at Zelda for a moment, noting her dismissive nature and an unseen, invisible displeasure that only years of experience with this young princess could detect. "Your Highness," Impa continued, throwing a covert glance towards Link to see if he was upset by such a reaction, but he might as well have been chiseled out of stone, unmoving and stoic as he was, "Director Leonore is aware of the background and security checks by Joint Intelligence that are required before a new bodyguard can be appointed to you. She has taken the liberty of undertaking the checks herself for Agent Link, and says she can have him immediately assigned to you indefinitely to fill the hole in your security detail until your new candidate can be screened."

To this Zelda said nothing; instead, she merely continued to look at the documents, occasionally taking a moment to scribble something on it with a pen, likely a signature or some notes. Although she knew better, she had a sudden impulsive hope that the chandelier above, hanging meters above Link, would suddenly come crashing down on him and end this rather irksome topic.

It was after a moment of this awkward silence that Impa understood the implications of Zelda's refusal to speak any further, and, with that, hoping Link didn't pick up as much as Impa did, turned to the young man. "Could you please wait outside for a while, Link?" she said in a quiet, reasonable voice.

Not missing a beat, or even giving a second glance towards the princess, Link unhesitatingly nodded to Impa, then offered a salute to Zelda, one she did not return, before walking briskly out of the room. If he was offended, he certainly didn't show it. Zelda actually counted ten seconds for the young man to reach from where he had been standing before the desk to the door, and reminded herself for what was probably the hundredth time that she still felt her office was unnecessarily spacious. She forfeited another five seconds to ensure that Link was not just at the door outside before finally addressed Impa, still standing where she had been even when Link was in the room.

"I am surprised at the gall of some people," Zelda muttered, her voice thick with concentration and clear irritation even as she continued to scribble away at the documents on her desk, anger articulated through what seemed like an unnecessary amount of pressure being put on the pen, drawing bold lines around where the tip touched the paper. "Does that woman believe she can just take and reassign bodyguards to me like some sort of merry-go-around? And where _is_ she? Why isn't she here to tell me of this change herself?" Without Link here, she was free to vent her frustrations in front of Impa, something that would not have been quite proper in front of a subject and civil servant not directly on a palace payroll.

Impa hesitated. On one hand, she wasn't particularly afraid of the princess' rare bursts of temper and humanity, not when Impa had been her caretaker from birth and not when she was currently Zelda's chief of staff. Anger from the princess was rare, but ultimately not unheard of, and, in light of the current situation, Impa, having watched Zelda's struggles in keeping the kingdom running single-handedly at the tender age of eighteen, certainly wasn't going to blame her. The fact was, however, that Impa _did_ need to convey the truth while keeping the pain and the necessities at clear boundaries, one that was more politically healthy for Zelda.

Chances were that Zelda knew anyways, and was merely looking for a chance to vent, but Impa just had to make sure.

"I have been told that Director Leonore is under the impression you don't want to see her right now," Impa finally said in a slow, deliberate voice. "Seeing your current mood, I cannot help but agree. Furthermore, rumor has it that she is currently making thorough preparations for an administration change before tendering her resignation."

Zelda looked up, her pen coming to a pause, genuine surprise settling into her eyes as she looked back up at Impa. "She's resigning?" she blinked, absorbing this news.

"I'm no spy, your Highness," Impa gave a small nod of her head, "but those are the rumors."

It took her a moment to properly digest this information before Zelda sighed, placing her pen down on the desk before she pressed her fingers gently on her forehead, as if attempting to tame a headache that was beginning to build. This was seriously not the time for her to be dealing with this kind of thing. On one hand, she had expected, even predicted, that this would happen, but that was just a realm of possibilities, a potential factor with a chance – albeit a rather high one – of happening, and now that it _did_ happen, Zelda realized that she had not actually formulated a proper response to react to this situation.

She suppressed a second sigh at this realization. Recent events have really been getting to her.

Zelda ran the possibilities in her head before finally dropping her right hand from her forehead to the armrest limply. "I need you to talk Leonore out of it soon," she said to Impa tiredly. "Preferably just before the conference on Thursday. It'll help her keep that in mind when the conference actually starts and give her little time to think about it; I don't want to touch on this issue formally then, not until I have something more conclusive and preferably when I'm not still feeling horrible about it. And I'd prefer to keep her off-guard and with as few contingencies as possible, at least until I have a few contingencies of my own."

Impa frowned worriedly at her words, wondering if Zelda had gone paranoid. "Are you afraid that she might attempt some form of power play?" she asked. If that was truly what Zelda believed, Impa would have to discourage such a thought; Leonore simply was not the type of person who would go that far, not when duty was such a paramount thing for the current director of Joint Intelligence.

"No," Zelda corrected, as she tilted her head back against the back of her seat and closed her eyes. "I'm afraid that she might _really_ resign. Especially right _now_."

Impa nodded. "I understand, your Highness," she assured her princess.

Zelda sighed, dropping her pen back onto her desk as she leaned back against her throne, fatigue and frustration clear on her face. "Of all the times this has to happen," she muttered, supporting her head with a hand as she tilted it to the side, her elbow on the armrest her seat, "Leonore timed this particularly well, especially when she knew I would need her the most."

The chief of staff pursed her lips. "I wouldn't think her timing is intentional," Impa offered some form of comfort. "The simple truth of the matter _is_ that you need to fill in this hole, and she happens to be the best candidate to select one for you in a rapid, impromptu manner. And she's _experienced_; she had been serving your father as director of Joint Intelligence before…" she trailed off, not quite wishing to finish the sentence. There were enough touchy subjects as was.

A shake of the head told Impa that Zelda disagreed. "It's not just that," she seemed rather adamant. "You're not seeing things the way I am…"

"And pardon me, your Highness," Impa interrupted tersely, but not unkindly, something that probably only she was given the privilege to do as Zelda's closest advisors and caretaker since birth, "but I think recent events have thrown you off your game, and you are not yourself at the moment. I understand your loss, your Highness. Believe me, I do…"

"No one doubts that," Zelda offered, but it seemed to only be a token gesture, and her words seemed tired, half-committed.

"…But the fact remains that I think all of us are being preoccupied by a greater issue at the moment than the death of one bodyguard," Impa continued, heedless of whatever conciliatory gesture, half-hearted or otherwise, that Zelda made. "If you wish, I can have my staff look around Joint Intelligence for any holes, any clues, file a formal investigation if need be, but the fact remains, princess, that Leonore is offering the best choice she can provide us right now."

Many moments of awkward silence passed before Zelda sighed again, leaning back against her throne and closing her eyes. What annoyed her a bit was that Impa made sense; Zelda _was_ tired and frustrated and drained from what had been happening, and this was not something that she could hide from Impa, wise with decades of experience and eighteen years of understanding Zelda, despite her attempts to covering it up behind the cold mask of stunning logic and intelligence that had allowed the princess to govern this kingdom practically single-handedly since she was sixteen years of age. It wasn't ignoble or petty-minded, but after eighteen years, Zelda _had_ hoped that she would somehow be able to impress herself by managing to hide her thoughts from Impa and, for once, leave the chief of staff guessing.

Of course, in reality, she wouldn't have it any other way. Impa's ability to simply _know_ what Zelda was thinking or feeling had been such a valuable asset since she took responsibility as to affairs of state, which was probably why Impa still remained as Zelda's closest advisor.

Still, the annoyance had to do partly with Leonore as well. After everything that had happened, Zelda was looking for the proper pretext, something that could justify her actions, to have Leonore quietly removed from Joint Intelligence. It was, of course, unjustified either way – as Impa said, there were more important matters than the death of a single bodyguard – but that was her emotions speaking, and, for obvious reasons, that had, for the past few days, taken precedence over everything else. Instead of giving Zelda some sort of alibi or cue to have her silently removed, however, Leonore extended the gesture _first_ by offering to resign…then demonstrate her hyper-competence by preparing for an administration change and being thoughtful enough to have an agent ready to complete Zelda's security detail.

_The goddesses conspire against me_, Zelda thought with a fair degree of irritation.

More moments of awkward silence dragged on.

Finally, Impa decided that long enough a time had gone on, and practical matters took priority. "What about Agent Link?" she inquired.

"What about him?" Zelda replied; her voice sounded vaguely absentminded even as she stared off into one of the corners of that rather large office.

"You haven't decided whether or not you'll take up on Director Leonore's offer on a temporary replacement for your personal bodyguard."

Zelda sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she did so. Stress was seriously starting to get to her, and, for what was probably the thousandth time, she wished that her father wasn't confined to his room, unconscious, unresponsive, comatose, wired to half a dozen life support systems with no real hope of ever regaining consciousness. "What do you think, Impa?" she asked as she finally looked back up to her chief of staff. "Should I accept?"

"Milady," Impa advised, insisting upon her position, "I think, regardless of whatever may or may not be going on under the table, your security still remains to be of the utmost importance. It is imperative that all security precautions remain at full strength."

"And if I accept this offer," Zelda figured, opening her eyes to look at Impa with a rather stoic, unreadable expression, which she hoped would mask her conflicting feelings, "it'll make it easier for you to reach out to Leonore on Thursday and convince her I don't want to see her gone just yet."

Impa nodded. "Precisely."

Zelda formed a grimace even as she turned her attention back to her paperwork, leaning forward on the desk as she picked up her pen again, scribbling notes and signatures. "I don't like this," she muttered, "There's something about this timing that's off." For some strange reason, something based on logic, intuition, or otherwise, something was just nagging at her. A premonition of sorts. She just couldn't let go of it.

Impa did her best to seem sympathetic. "I understand, your Highness," she said, trying to be, for once, the voice of reason beside Zelda. "But, regardless of its timing, I'm sure even you see that it's the best choice available to us right now."

Her hand did not stop scribbling even as Zelda gave a half-hearted reply. "Perhaps," she whispered.

* * *

In all honesty, Zelda had been neglectfully professional towards her new bodyguard, but it was not until Wednesday that she decided she probably wasn't going to like Link.

There was the initial frustration that Link essentially followed Zelda like a shadow. It was not at all surprising, considering he _was_ going to be her bodyguard for as long as Impa needed to make arrangements to allow Zelda to select a new one from a candidate list the chief of staff would be preparing – which meant interviews with the candidates, calls to their respective superiors and departments, and, of course, screening and tests with Joint Intelligence – but Link somehow saw fit to follow her wherever she went. It had been somewhat surprising, a feeling of the unwelcome sort, when Link, unasked, stepped into her office right behind her, something that no one else had ever did; most people stopped right outside the door unless asked to come in. Zelda had been too surprised to say anything at the time, so she merely decided to tolerate Link's presence in her office with her this time, where he merely decided to stand by the door at attention like some sort of sentry.

It was awkward enough having someone else in her little office sanctuary, but it was even more so – maybe even borderline unnerving – when Zelda realized that Link seemed to have a special ability to stand there for hours on end without moving. He moved once when he turned to the door, a hand in his jacket as if to reach for some weapon, after Impa was let in through the door after the intercom on Zelda's desk informed her that her chief of staff was coming in, but otherwise, he just stood there, and something about that simply didn't sit well with Zelda, not when his eyes were effectively hidden behind heavily tinted sunglasses that Link seemed to always keep on, basically giving him the appearance of a generic Joint Intelligence agent. With such a stoic demeanor, unmoving posture, and no view to his eyes, Link was, to Zelda, and unreadable enigma.

She didn't like that; two years of running the kingdom instilled her with a need that convinced her she needed to know _everything_.

The fact that he never talked was also getting on her nerves. Granted, Link somehow possessed an uncanny knack of expressing himself through a mixture of body language and actions if he couldn't respond with either a nod or a shake of his head, but he also seemed very good at not answering questions or leaving it up in the air with a simple shrug that could mean anything. Zelda wanted to foster an impression that she wasn't trying to be unworkable, but by the third attempt trying to get him to say something, if only to place a profile on his voice, she decided that she really didn't want to talk to him at all anymore. In fact, despite Impa's reassurances that all agents assigned to the royal family's security details must not have any major disability, Zelda was beginning to suspect that Link was mute.

And now, she was stuck having to explain to him why he couldn't follow her into Nayru Garden on a Wednesday afternoon without sounding rude and not going into a fully detailed explanation.

"This is as far as you'll need to take me, thank you," Zelda said, her voice clearly not providing any hint that she was being thankful, even as she turned around to face Link at the castle entrance of the Nayru Garden. Around, the maids that usually tended to the garden silently and nervously watched the spectacle between their princess and a Joint Intelligence agent they had never seen before, preparing to intervene if necessary. Maybe with dusters and brooms.

Link did not respond, merely stood there. Zelda wasn't sure, but she thought Link had an "I'm supposed to be protecting you" vibe going on. Or maybe he _was_ going to speak, but was going to go into the usual "your Highness, I can't allow you in here until I have made preliminary security checks to ensure that the premises is safe". That would've been rather amusing, but it wasn't something she was looking forward to right now. Or maybe she _was_ hoping that Link could at least speak and voice his concerns in a rare gesture at using vocal communication, but no such luck for her when Zelda realized he was going to remain utterly silent.

"I can assure you," Zelda said as patiently as she could, although she could detect a bit of thinness in her voice that Link probably wouldn't miss either, "that I have, for the last five years, been in this garden alone every Wednesday and Sunday afternoon. My staff knows that I am to be given privacy during these afternoons, and that I have the garden to myself unless there is an emergency."

Again, Link merely stood there. This time, Zelda couldn't quite tell what he was thinking or what he was trying to say, and those damned sunglasses prevented her from searching for answers in his eyes. She had half a mind to demand that he remove those sunglasses, but that, she felt, would be rather unreasonable. She had all the reason in the world to be moody, but there was a need to maintain a certain composure as crown princess. Losing her cool here, in front of a bodyguard and surrounded by maids, was not what she was looking for in particular.

"Is that understood?" Zelda asked, if only to confirm.

A moment of hesitation, before Link nodded curtly. He didn't seem particularly convinced with that explanation, which Zelda honestly didn't care much for, and she suddenly pondered the possibility that he might walk right in after her anyways as soon as she turned around, but when she stepped into the sunlight and into the gardens, Link had disappeared from the doorway as soon as she had turned around to see if he had followed. Relieved smiles from the maids inside seemed to indicate that Link had indeed chosen to leave. That, Zelda decided, was a small victory by itself, and permitted herself a thin smile.

Her moment of satisfaction was rather short-lived.

It was three minutes into her usual routine in Nayru Garden, seating herself in her usual gazebo, satisfied to find that her tea set was already arranged for her by the dutiful maids even before she ever arrived, and beginning to make her tea while looking through an afternoon's worth of documents that a flash of light caught her eyes. She initially assumed that it was just windows reflecting the sunlight in her general direction – which was still curious, considering that had never happened before – but when it became more frequent, Zelda frowned and looked in the direction of the light, trying to figure out what it was.

It took her some squinting and effort to finally find the source, but when she finally did, she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

The "light" Zelda saw originated from the rooftop balcony just above the garden entrance, the result of a lens flare coming from the scope of a high-power sniper rifle sticking out between two pillars of a stone railing which Link was barely concealed behind.

The rifle wasn't aimed at _her_, of course, but the movements suggested that Link was basically scoping all of the Nayru Garden, as if expecting intruders to come at any point. At one point, she actually wondered from _where_ the young man got the weapon from, but decided to chalk that up to the usual clandestine way all intelligence agents seemed to operate. Despite his obviously good intentions, Zelda couldn't help but feel supremely irritated at the fact that Link seemed to have missed the point of her wanting _privacy_ in this garden. To compliment this frustration, she was not carrying a cell phone, the gazebo did not have an intercom, and, short for shouting for her maids – which was definitely out of the question – she had no contact with anyone else from where she was save the panic button hidden in her necklace. Despite the fact that Link's earpiece was probably on the same frequency as her panic button, not to mention that she couldn't possibly justify summoning twenty armed guards scrambling into the garden and initiating a palace-wide alert because her bodyguard had a sniper rifle on the roof, she was suddenly severely tempted to press it.

All appetite for work lost, Zelda slumped back into her chair as she muttered a small prayer. "Goddesses help that I survive this week."

* * *

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Link paused for a moment as he quietly looked up from the cafeteria table upon where he was sitting. It was everyday in his work shift that two thirty-minute intervals were taken out for him to eat lunch and dinner in the palace staff cafeteria unless, of course, attention to the princess, which always came first, dictated otherwise. Of course, while "palace staff cafeteria" sounded somewhat impressive, Link could never make out the difference between that and every other staff cafeteria he had ever been to, which tended to be underground, plain, and unadorned. Not that he minded, but it was somewhat ironic that, despite this being practically the center of the Kingdom of Hyrule, there was little improvement here over the common cafeteria.

Regardless, however, there wasn't really any way Link could tell his direct superior that he _did_ mind if she sat here, so he merely shook his head; it was the truth, anyways, although he _did_ wonder why she had specifically asked to sit with him, considering the cafeteria, being half-empty, was in no way short of empty seats.

Leonore seemed to have caught his look, and she gave a wry smile in return as she settled down her tray of food on the same table as Link, sitting down; years of having worked with and trained this young man, complemented with many factors – one of them being able to deduce thoughts from even the most stoic of persons – allowed her brief glimpses of what he _wanted_ to say…without him actually ever opening his mouth. "You've become a rather important person, Link," she noted in a mockingly patronizing voice, "becoming the princess' personal bodyguard. It goes without saying, but I have to keep an eye on you."

Link rolled his eyes in what had to be quiet frustration, if not exasperation, of Leonore's behavior, and concentrated instead on his spaghetti, deciding to ignore that. Still, it was as "rude" a gesture as he would ever really allow himself in front of Hyrule's director of Joint Intelligence. Despite already being in her fifties, Leonore had distinguished herself as the first female director of Joint Intelligence in Hylian history, and earned a reputation, to which some might describe as "notorious", as exceedingly competent and professional – often jokingly emphasized behind her back by others by a rather tight expression that sufficiently hid the few light wrinkles that were finally forming on her skin – which, by itself, was enough to earn Link's respect. That said, however, despite keeping most of her staff at a respectful, professional standard, she also seemed to, contrary to initial impression, keep a rather genuine interests in their lives, families, and well-being, something that previous directors had failed in, and something that made her rather popular amongst the members of Joint Intelligence. This was often shown in her being unafraid to mingle on a more personal level with her subordinates…precisely what Leonore was doing with Link.

Although Link often reaffirmed to himself that Leonore probably wasn't one to play favorites with her subordinates, he sometimes wondered why Leonore always acted especially motherly towards _him_…although, then again, it probably had to do with the fact that he _was_ one of the youngest, if not _the_ youngest, field agent of Joint Intelligence.

For now, though, his eyes wandered over to her attire, a rather smart business suit that was all white. Not a particularly wise choice of colors when one remembered the stains spaghetti can have on fabric, despite Leonore looking near ethereal with it when combined with her pale skin, dark blond hair, and blue eyes. Then, again, Link knew Leonore would've considered that as a factor already; it was popularly believed she knew _everything_, from military authorization codes, backgrounds of suspected terrorist masterminds, weapons development in Gerudo, even which closet Chandler and Cecilia were making out in every Friday at five in the evening. Chances were that she probably knew a week ahead of time what the cafeteria food was going to be too. No, Link wasn't going to be judgmental; his observance was largely a force of habit from having been trained as an intelligence agent. He also couldn't help but note a folder that Leonore had brought in with her, which was suspiciously thin; her folders, whenever Link saw her carry one, were usually rather well-stuffed and thick.

"My letter of resignation," Leonore explained, again catching Link's gaze as she forked at her own spaghetti. "Although I suspect, with Impa wanting to visit me before this afternoon's conference, I would think her Highness wants to talk me out of it without actually having to talk to me."

Link continued to look at Leonore stoically. She smiled; the young man was just as silently inquisitive as he was silently observant. She took a small bit of pride in that, noting the youth in him despite what intelligence work had done to him.

"If I had to guess," she explained after taking a bite out of her spaghetti, no longer quite looking at Link as she concentrated on her plate instead, "she thinks removing me right now would cause too much of an upheaval in Hyrule's intelligence community, and would create a power vacuum. She's also waiting on me to procure intelligence on Valent that military intelligence has failed to do for two years…" there was a pause, before a small, amused, almost sadly whimsical smile crossed her lips, and she looked up at Link with eyes that seemed to reflect hints of tragic irony and brutal truth, "…And I guess having me gone for a human resources issue would be a rather unpopular move." Leonore was, apparently, not at all uncomfortable with admitting she knew how popular she was with the Hylian intelligence committee.

A light grunt came from Link's throat, almost defensive, even as he stuffed more spaghetti down; that, Leonore knew, was usually as close to an amused chuckle as Link got. Having exercised the initial pleasantries, the two, for several minutes, concentrated on eating. Link was not at all talkative, and Leonore, knowing this, respectfully accepted that. It was not until moments of quiet contemplation – Leonore didn't touch her plate after taking her third bite of lunch – that she spoke once more.

"I hope the princess isn't giving you a tough time."

This time, Link actually did look up seriously at Leonore as he paused what he was doing. He caught himself too late; the lapse in his stride told Leonore as much as he wasn't willing to say, and not only was she intelligent, she was very perceptive, and, Link would feel sometimes, this was especially true when she concentrated on _him_. Shaking his head wouldn't do, for that was an outright lie, and he didn't want to give off the idea that he was insulting her intelligence. Rather, his mouth twitched into a slight grimace before he dropped his gaze back to his spaghetti and pointedly wolfed down a large portion of it in a show of exaggerated annoyance.

Leonore smiled in a kindly amused manner at Link's expression, and gently reminded herself, as well as himself, that Link was, indeed, still quite young, no matter how he masked it. "Girls can be like that at her age," she tried to assure Link. "I myself, I think, was worse when I was her age…" she paused, noting a very skeptical look that Link was throwing her way, then smiled, adding, "…Even boys like you have your own strange mood swings sometimes, or act sullen all the time."

Again, a grunt from Link, although Leonre noted that it was one more of disgruntled annoyance this time. Her smile grew even more in what was definitely a bemused expression, although, after a few moments, it turned somewhat sad, regretful, and melancholy, one born out of realization that a bit of her fears had, indeed, come true.

"Be honest with me, Link," Leonore whispered, and Link noticed that, this time, his superior was looking distantly away from him. "I need to know the truth, especially since everything is my fault. Was reassigning you to her Highness my mistake? Is it an unnecessary burden for you?"

That made Link hesitate for a moment before he sat up straight in his seat, dropping the fork back into his half-finished plate of spaghetti as his face donned a somewhat uncomfortable frown, symbolizing a bit of inner conflict within him. There was, of course, the awkwardness in realizing that his situation had just troubled his superior, so there was a bit of preprogrammed sheepishness there, a natural bureaucratic reaction. He knew that Leonore wouldn't hold it against him – she just wasn't the type to be petty – but it didn't make him feel less guilty. And his feelings of guilt aside, he was just as equally divided as to how he saw Princess Zelda. He really _didn't_ want to nod; not only would it be a half-truth, but it was something he just didn't want to do in front of Leonore, to let her know that he felt uneasy and frustrated by this assignment. On the other hand, shrugging was just as bad; it was simply dodging the question.

That really left only one option left. Link shook his head. There really wasn't much else to tell her, and even with his aversion to speaking, there was no way he could sort out how he _did_ feel and explain it to Leonore in any logical way. That shake of a head would have to do.

Leonore merely smiled at Link's gesture, and although the regret was still there, a bit of it was placed with a more familiar bemusement that Link was accustomed to seeing from the older woman. "You're a horrible liar," Leonore teased half-heartedly. "That could be fatal in this job. Remind me why I hired you again."

That, Link decided, was the Leonore that he wanted to see, someone that sounded rather like a patronizing parent; anything else under casual circumstances, aside from maybe her strict spymaster mode, was a bit strange for him. At, with that, Link entertained Leonore with a roll of his eyes, just a bit more exaggerated than what was usual. Leonore merely smiled at this display of silent mutual understanding; there was something special about this young man and his unabashed mentality of being close and compassionate towards his superiors, unafraid to express his views through body language, even if it is silently broadcasted.

With that in mind, Leonore stood up, preparing to leave the cafeteria. "Please tell me if anything comes up," she encouraged Link to continue to be open with her, "even if that means leaving memos on my desk."

There was some hesitation, but a rather short moment later, Link simply nodded his head in compliance, although his gaze didn't quite leave Leonore's plate; aside from the three bites she had taken from her plate, her spaghetti had been left relatively untouched, and it very evidently looked it.

"I wasn't really hungry," Leonore admitted with a shrug, looking just _slightly_ guilty at what was definitely a waste of food, "and I never enter a conference with a full stomach anyways. Makes me feel sick later on." A grin surfaced on her lips as she decided she was going to tease Link a bit more. "_You_, on the other hand, need to eat everything you can."

Link gave a bit of a scoff; Leonore knew that was his version of a devil-may-care smile. More notably, however, Link swiveled his head slightly towards the cafeteria stewardess, who was covertly shooting Leonore what definitely seemed like a displeased look at the fact that she was leaving and wasting what was practically a full plate of spaghetti. Leonore decided she didn't want to deduce exactly what the woman was thinking, that it was a waste of food or that Leonore did not appreciate the woman's cooking.

"Looks like I won't be coming back here for lunch for a while," Leonore smiled futilely at Link.

An equally futile shrug from Link told Leonore that it was her own folly.

* * *

"Would you stop that?"

Link did not make any vocal response to the statement to indicate that he had heard the statement; he left that to the swiveling of his body as he turned to face the person who addressed him on the gazebo, his demeanor strictly professional and official.

It was a cloudy Sunday afternoon, the clouds above neither dark nor gathered enough to be decisive about whether or not there shall be rain, and although a single week had not yet completely passed since Link became Zelda's personal bodyguard on a temporary basis, there was an unspoken undertone between them, and potentially those who were close enough, that the two were not making the best of pairs. For one thing, Link was doing a splendid job for an agent who had not yet protected the princess from any immediate danger, at least where both at maintaining security protocols and frustrating Zelda were concerned.

"Please do not think that, just because you have sunglasses," Zelda said in a coldly dignified manner as she turned around from where she was sitting, her face coming to bear with the black-laden agent right behind her, a motion that was very well-timed in conjunction with a confused, inquisitive expression on Link's face as his head tilted to the side in confusion, and Link – for just a moment – wondered about the possibility that his employer was psychic, "I can't tell that you're glaring at me from time to time."

For the most part, Link didn't feel that this accusation was fair. It _was_ true that he was _somewhat_ frustrated at the strained relationship between employer and employee – for the most part, being an intelligence agent meant dealing with a few department heads and Leonore, and they have moreorless treated him with professional respect – but his covert looks at her had largely been what he considered to be protecting her and watching her well-being, not quite the "glares" she had been insinuating. Still, he knew better than to argue with a princess.

"I know what you're thinking," Zelda continued, turning her head back towards the documents on her desk, her voice thick with eerie concentration, as if she was somehow unnaturally expanding her attention span to both read documents and address Link with astounding fluency. "You're thinking that I must be the most irritating, stuck-up, arrogant girl you've ever met, and you feel very unfortunate having been assigned to me as a bodyguard instead of being out in the field, where you feel more comfortable, where you feel it'll make you more _important_."

Link would've been forced to suppress a grimace if he had much of a general desire to make faces to begin with. There was the initial indignity that pervaded his mind as he was tempted to just quietly shake his head in a clear "no, that's not at _all_ what I'm thinking". But he caught himself for a moment, and decided he would just remain silent and unmoving. The truth was that he _was_, albeit, to be fair, only a _little_, thinking about such a thought, but that had been suppressed by the fact that, for all of Zelda's attempts at self-security through near-offensive distancing, she _was_ the crown princess of Hyrule, and Link had to concede that she was a calm, regal, and intelligent one at that, one who would one day become a good queen. Besides, he also had the feeling that, even if he denied thinking of such, Zelda probably wouldn't believe it. As such, just as he had decided, he remained silent and unmoving.

That, unfortunately, also seemed to irritate Zelda as much, if not more, than denying her accusations outright, which was immediately evident after a few seconds, Zelda gave an exaggerated sigh as she dropped her documents back on the table, swiveling her head to Link in what was clearly a displeased, frustrated expression. "Can you even talk?" she demanded of Link; there was the potential possibility that Link was indeed mute, but Zelda was not in a mood to be particularly polite at the moment, and she figured the mute probably would not be able to find field jobs in Joint Intelligence.

Link, expressionlessly, nodded without missing a beat.

"Well," Zelda commanded impatiently, "say something."

"It is my belief that you are not at all ready to accept a new bodyguard, your Highness. It is also evident that your Highness and my predecessor were close."

Zelda had to blink twice. She was honestly caught by surprise. She hadn't expected Link to actually _speak_, although she had conceded to herself beforehand that were he to speak, it would only likely be a word or two, an indicator that he was not mute before falling back into his sullen silence. He did not stutter, speak slowly, or possess any sort of speech impediment that was immediately audible. In fact, as far as Zelda could tell, Link possessed excellent voice control, his words soft and gentle, but still hinting at strength and resolution beneath a rather softspoken demeanor. The crown princess did not expect that from this silent agent. And if there was anything she hadn't expected, it was the fact that this agent was as bold as he was intuitive. Not only had he the gall to speak his mind, it was clear his mind had already contemplated exactly why he was receiving the cold reception.

Admittedly, Zelda wasn't entirely sure how to deal with him now. Should she accept a bodyguard who seemed to possess a keen mind? Or should she feel threatened by an agent who presumed too much? She wasn't sure, but, for some reason, something about Link allowed her to relax slightly as she visibly leaned against the back of her chair, and the edge left her voice when she spoke once again. "You're probably right," she spoke with a bit of a huff, but her voice was softer, more reasonable. "As princess, I'm not supposed to particularly favor one subject over another, and overcome my personal qualms for the sake of the greater national good, but…" a wistful, almost melancholy smile crossed her lips, "…I admit I still have problems trying to accept the fact that your predecessor is dead."

Link tilted his head slightly to the side, betraying the most minimal amounts of curiosity.

"No, it's not what you think it is," Zelda gave a small, bitter laugh in response as soon as she noted Link's expression, looking upwards to the skies as if searching for her memories from the expansive azure. "He was my illegitimate half-brother. When my mother was still pregnant with me, my father had a one-night stand with a recently widowed noblewoman. It was, by all accounts, a sudden, spur of the moment thing, but when the pregnancy became known, the truth was revealed…" she paused, then closed her eyes as her fingers rubbed the bridge of her nose, a sound like a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff escaping her throat, a clear indicator of contempt and ridicule, "…My father became the first king in Hylian history whose genitals were described before a Senate investigation committee in front of the mass media when the old men threatened to force him to abdicate, my mother refused to talk to my father for a month, and the noblewoman committed suicide in shame after the entire debacle. The only thing that saved my father was that, before the fiasco reached its climax, the headlines moved onto the civil war in Valent, and his affair became a thing of the past. He privately adopted my half-brother eventually, probably out of guilt, and he was raised in secrecy, his true identity fading from public knowledge over time. By the time he became my bodyguard, with a new name and background, no one knew who he really was."

If Link was particularly moved by, or had any strong feelings for, Zelda's story, so far as she could tell, he didn't show. The slightest parting of his tightly-sealed lips, one that lasted for only a second, was the only hint that he _might_ have been preparing to say something, but, otherwise, he remained silent, and did not speak when Zelda looked at him inquisitively and gave him a few seconds to voice his mind. When she was certain that Link wouldn't even try, however, she sighed and continued.

"So, if you must know," she finally said, and, once more, an edge came back to her voice, perhaps a hint of annoyance towards having to deal with the wordless bodyguard once more, her speech filled with increased bite with every word she spoke, "No, it doesn't have to do anything with you specifically. Because I _am_ upset that I was not able to repay the family debt that we owe him for bringing him about his wretched, cursed existence of being my illegitimate half-brother. I _am_ feeling displeased about my half-brother's death, especially because it was your superior, Director Leonore, who rotated him from his bodyguard duties to a mission in which she insisted personally that it _had_ to be _him_ for the objectives to be accomplished."

By the time she had finished what she had to say, Zelda had become slightly short of breath, forcing her to close her eyes and inhale deeply once both to catch a breath and to calm herself, dissipate an unpleasant pressure building up in her head. When the exercise was completed, she opened her eyes once more, looking up at Link with a slightly accusatory look. It was difficult for Zelda to figure out what kind of expression Link had – the tinted sunglasses, easily one part of Joint Intelligence apparel Zelda would like removed, hid any glint of emotion that might've shown in Link's eyes, something that might not have shown in his stoic expression.

In this case, Link seemed to stare right back from behind his sunglasses, his face unreadable…and, suddenly, moments later, without warning, he simply turned around, and walked briskly away from the gazebo. Zelda could only watch, wide-eyed, bewildered, and flabbergast, as Link silently left the gazebo, moving for one of the garden's exits, before disappearing behind one of the corner walls, out of Zelda's sight.

The gesture itself surprised, if not shocked, Zelda. Part of it was because no one had ever suddenly turned their back on her before – her royal station was to thank for that – and part of it was because she had never felt this irritable before in her years as crown princess, but none of those reasons diminished the shock factor by any extent. _Did I go too far?_ Zelda wondered if she was too harsh, and, for a long moment, a pang of guilt struck her and remained there. Had she, a crown princess, really been inconsiderate enough to turn one of her subordinates away like this? There was the painful realization that she, too, was human and flawed, and even she could not always maintain that mask of regal composure all the time.

So she was rather grateful, even if she did strive very hard not to show it, when Link, only a few minutes later, finally reappeared. Zelda figured that Link probably felt a bit guilty about leaving the crown princess there like that. She would make sure that those thoughts were dissuaded immediately; it was she who needed to apologize, not him. But her thoughts were interrupted as Link stepped back onto the gazebo, not a change of expression on his face, and Zelda realized that there was an umbrella in his hands.

"Is it going to rain?" she asked.

Link wordlessly nodded. It was back to silent stoicism for him again. For some reason, Zelda rather wanted to hear his voice again, if only because it allowed her a moment of triumph and satisfaction to hear the normally silent agent talk.

"How do you know?" she persisted.

"I'm told you're likely to be here for another hour and a half," Link simply stated, his voice level and calm, and tapped his earpiece twice, pointing it out. "I had agents a bit west at headquarters inform me if they had any rain. If they got rain, we'll be getting it soon here." And, as if the heavens wanted to punctuate that point, a soft crescendo of rainfall, the sound of raindrops falling across leaves with an ambient pit-pat, suddenly became audible as it began to drizzle, and, as Zelda looked out the gazebo, she realized that it was, indeed, slowly but decisively becoming a bit of a shower.

It took Zelda a moment to register the thoughtfulness and loyalty in Link, the dedication upon which he was taking his role as a bodyguard – and perhaps a bit of a caretaker – despite her less-than-ideal treatment of him thus far. She had, in fact, noticed the subtext, the undertone, in Link's voice, which spoke with the insinuation that all bygones were bygones, and anything she might've said about the earlier spat would've an incurred an "I've already forgotten about it, your Highness" answer. She realized that she had misread Link; He was an agent that was not easily put off, and Zelda found that trait to be rather admirable. She still didn't find herself accommodating of Link's overbearing methods…but they suddenly became a bit more tolerable.

The crown princess of Hyrule did not smile, but a slight inclination of her head in Link's direction, a nod of approval, clearly showed that she accepted his gesture with a sense of gratefulness, and this was confirmed with the words that she used to address the agent. "Thank you, Link."

The silent, wordless nod Link offered in return had a clear flavor of "you're welcome".

* * *

A small tinge of satisfaction manifested in the form of a small, invisible smile of triumph as the doors closed behind Zelda's office, effectively sealing the crown princess in her workplace along with her chief of staff. With no one else present. It was less about alienating Link than it was a sudden, whimsical, and playful thought, but _this_ time, Zelda remembered to turn to Link just as she had opened the doors to her office, and say, "This is sufficient, thank you. I would like you to take your position outside until I am ready to leave." Link fidgeted once – or, at least, seemed to – when Zelda had finished her words, clearly debating whether it was actually safe to do so. But a raised, inquisitive eyebrow from her, a silent inquiry as to whether or not Link _really_ wanted to disobey the crown princess of Hyrule, did the trick, and Link nodded in an equally silent manner, taking up post outside the office.

Although she did not notice Zelda's smile, Impa did note the manner in which Zelda had left Link outside. "I see you have finally managed to bring yourself to convincing your interim bodyguard to leave you alone in your office," she remarked.

Zelda seated herself on her chair behind her desk while Impa stood on the other side. "Simple problems often require only simple solutions," she said in a voice devoid of humor despite both women knowing full well the humorous intent.

The Hylian chief of staff matched Zelda's demeanor with a slightly deadpan tone. "And I now know not which of you two is being blunt and rude."

"My mother always delighted herself in remarking how my generation had no manners."

And with the pleasantries exchanged, they quickly moved onto business. "Major General Morgan is reporting that OL…OLR…_OLRER_…" Impa scowled at her inability to fluently pronounce that acronym even as she squinted at the five letters on the document, as if looking hard enough would help, "…has new intelligence that requires out immediate attention. He's requesting that we move the next conference from next Thursday to this Thursday."

A pause; Zelda knew that if Major General Morgan, a rather easygoing military leader despite his rank and rarely ever made requests for any form of change, was requesting for a schedule change on behalf of OLRER, then it must be rather important. "Tell him that a reschedule will be made," she said with a straight face, "as soon as he can find a better way to shorten Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance into something more pronounceable for my chief of staff."

Detecting the near-invisible humor, Impa responded in kind. "Would you like me to contact the rest of the Joint Chiefs and Director Leonore _after_ General Morgan confirms that the new acronym will not torture my poor old tongue?"

Zelda shot Impa a mock dry look, pretending she was irritated and impatient with the question, which the chief of staff decided to interpret as a "no". A pen scribbled away at her clipboard. "There's also the matter of your meeting with Director Leonore. She has prepared a selection of candidates that she has screened and would like you to personally ratify before she can reassign a new permanent bodyguard for you. She's requested Friday afternoon, although she notes her schedule is very flexible over the weekend."

That Zelda did not immediately reply to the mention of Director Leonore was, for Impa, completely expected. What Zelda said next, however, was less so. "Actually, Impa," Zelda said slowly, deliberately, contemplatively, but relatively softly, and Impa, through the voice, could somehow tell that, for the most part, Zelda has begun to move on, "please inform Director Leonore that a sudden matter has come up that requires both our attentions, and that neither of us will be able to meet with her to discuss her new security arrangements until sometime after the conference on Thursday. Thus, for now, we will rely on current arrangements and make do until a more appropriate time."

Impa nodded dutifully at the lie. "Of course, your Highness," she replied, and although she lifted a document up to her face as if looking for the timetable on it, hiding her face partially, Zelda could still tell that Impa was secretly smiling.

Zelda found herself doing the exact same.

* * *

Author's Note: "Exoria", the title, comes from the Latin word "exorior", which roughly translates to "to rise, to come forth, to advance". In this way, I have "advanced" this alternate Zelda continuity in various ways, foremost of which is that the world is now in a modern-day setting. Not sci-fi; although I will be utilizing some science fiction elements (as well as fantasy ones to stay, in some way, true to the Zelda universe), this is essentially a modern day Zelda universe with an average technological level of the early twentieth-century. I say "average" because they have some technology we don't, and vice-versa. For example, they do not have space-faring technology yet, not even a rocket sent up to space...while they will make up in ways revealed to you later in the story.

I write without following any particular Zelda game. I do borrow obvious plot elements from various games, and, for one, I do try to stay remotely connected to canon, but, for all intents and purposes, I am not trying to limit myself to writing a specific sequel. In this I cite the example of _Turn A Gundam_. The symbol "∀", otherwise known as a "turned a", is a symbol representing universal quantification, meaning that it is "all in a set" and "true for everything relevant to it". Thus, the show _Turn A Gundam_ is essentially what is known as a very distant sequel (by several millennium, no less) to all Gundam shows prior to its broadcast, a show that is canonically true to _everything_...or, more specifically, every Gundam show aired thus far. This is what I have in mind when writing Exoria: This story is a very, very far off sequel to all the Zelda games released thus far. It's probably the only way I can ever get things to make sense, anyways, especially when Nintendo is particularly fond of creating a different world for every Zelda game to confuse us with the official statement that all the games are somehow canonically connected.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

"I've looked at the budget proposals and the fiscal year report for last year from the Ministry of Defense," Zelda muttered even as the pleasant ding in the hallway foretold the opening of the elevator's double-doors, a pair of reading glasses loosely hugging the bridge of her nose as her eyes darted across several documents in a folder on her hand. "I don't approve. The armed forces has been spending practically a third of the national budget for the last three years, and the excuse that it's against Valent's military buildup is rapidly wearing thin. The minister should know better. Their special weapons projects are taking up an extravagant sum of funds, especially the air force." The polished metallic doors to the elevator opened, revealing a clean, fancy, and spacious elevator beyond. Already, two palace guards were posted at the elevator, expecting the princess, and saluted smartly in traditional Hylian uniform, long white overcoats with blue-sheen metallic shoulder armor. Although they were both armed with not only the aesthetically traditional rifle, which both were a replica of a century-old model, hidden in hip holsters under their robes were also modern handguns, just in case lethal retaliation against potential threats overrode the need to abide by palace customs.

Per tradition, the black-clad Joint Intelligence agent acting as interim royal bodyguard stepped into the elevator first and gave a quick cursory visual sweep of the elevator before Link, in the same split-second, stood at attention right beside the interior elevator console, prompting both Zelda and Impa to step through the elevator doors. Link keyed the buttons shortly afterwards, and the doors sealed shut before the familiar feeling of a descending elevator was felt by all the occupants, the elevator car moving from the palace's higher levels where Zelda's office was located to the main wing below.

Impa was appropriately armed with a bundle of folders and documents in one hand, most of which were military-related records pertaining to the re-scheduled Thursday conference. "The bulk of the spending is related to outsourcing contracts for our sixth-generation fighter jet," she explained even as she passed yet another relevant folder to the princess, which Zelda took gracefully and opened. "The details are in here."

Zelda's gaze whipped swiftly through the first words on the documents, found the key words she had been looking for in practically the same instant. "The Seraph," she muttered. "I'm aware of that little secret pet project. Five years down the line, several million dollars on part of the air force, and we still only have one prototype. Which contractor holds the bid?"

"Allen-Rosencrantz Heavy Industries, your Highness."

"Explains things," Zelda expelled a frustrated sigh. "Jealous of their profits and secretive of their finances. They're probably extending the contract for as long as they're able to. Money goes around."

"Is this something you wish to address at the briefing, your Highness?"

The elevator dinged pleasantly again as the elevator began to rapidly decelerate, coming to an eventual halt. "No," Zelda replied, and although the double doors opened, she remained in the elevator car, preferring the exchange between her and her chief of staff to remain in the confines of elevator walls, although Link stepped out first to assess security anyways. "I don't want to steal the spotlight from Morgan any more than I have to. We'll deal with this at a later time, but have Tim leak information of a possible upcoming ultimatum from this office involving declassification of all project documents…and Senate involvement, preferably oversight." Zelda permitted herself a small grin as she finally stepped out from the elevator, ignoring the two palace guards that took up the rear of the princess' escort while Link brought up the front. "I'd like the gentlemen over at the Haven to know what it feels like dealing with those old men."

Impa nodded even as the entourage stepped from the elevator and into the large main wing of Hyrule Palace, the Grand Hall majestic, large, and ornate, acting as the central hub of the palace. Brightly lit, the afternoon sunlight poured in from gigantic windows on both sides of the hall, which offered an admirable view of the metropolis capital beyond the castle walls surrounding the palace. It was to the main wing that the Grand Staircase of the Hyrule Castle led, and it was from the main wing that most areas of Hylian royalty's official residence could be accessed; the Grand Hall, effectively the entrance to the highly secure Hyrule Palace, acted as the main hub of the titanic building. The entourage passed through scattered members of palace staff, from bureaucrats to guards to maids, all of whom offered polite bows and curtsies before their sovereign-in-actuality as she and her chief of staff and bodyguards passed by. Zelda had taken years to hide her display of flustered emotions at the display of subservience on part of her staff; she had gotten more effective at hiding her embarrassment as time went by, and, to help things, the current agenda, irksome as it was, effectively took her mind off any distracting emotions she may have felt otherwise.

"How much exposure?" Impa asked in regards to Zelda's suggestion of a deliberate information leak.

"Rumors are fine enough," came Zelda's answer, allowing Link to steer them down a less-crowded western corridor. "We'll take a page from Director Leonore's book. I don't want anything confirmed, and we should have room for plausible deniability if the Haven starts pressing us for answers. I _do_ want the Joint Chiefs to break a sweat, not prepare for political retaliation. Not yet."

Although Impa nodded in agreement, she couldn't help but purse her lips at the same time, a clear indicator of mixed feelings on the issue. "I understand, your Highness," she treaded the topic carefully, "Still, I'm not entirely unsympathetic towards this development. Both Valent and Gerudo have developed a true fourth-generation main battle tank, to which we still have no answer for. Our navy is still uncontested, but, deployment-wise, this is not going to help out strategic defense any, and I think most would feel more comfortable if we can boast a sturdier air force…" the seemed to be prepared to stop there, then, remembering another tidbit of information, added rather impatiently, "…since the army doesn't look like their R&D department will be getting anywhere soon."

"I'm not opposed to weapons development, Impa," Zelda's voice was stiff. "I just want to remind them – gently…" she quickly added, noting a funny look from her chief of staff, "…that the national treasury is not bottomless. With no trade whatsoever with Valent and a declining Gerudo economy, we should be looking for ways to strengthen our economy, not for more ways to spend money." They stopped before another set of elevator doors, already open and waiting for them. Again, Link entered first, although neither Zelda nor Impa seemed to wait for him, assuming that he'd push them right out if he detected any danger. This time, the palace guards entered last, standing to attention as they entered and stood guard on either side of the elevator doors, which closed before, again, the car began to descend.

"Fair enough," Impa relented. "Also, you have an appointment with Doctor Hal in two hours."

Zelda merely nodded. "This briefing shouldn't take too long. If it does, I'll just call him here and step out for a few minutes; I know what he needs."

The elevator ride was much shorter this time; the doors opened at a subterranean level before Link silently led the way out to the secure subterranean operations center, the military strategic center for the royal family in the palace. The guards saluted as they remained in the elevator, allowing the three other occupants to file out into the corridors. The well-lit hallways were largely abandoned; the operations center was generally unmanned during peacetime, with the exception of security forces ensuring the equipment and databases here weren't tampered with. Despite this, the facility was kept modern and clean, and did not possess a desolate feel about it, even with the minimal security detail; lack of changes in security patrols made it harder for spies to predict where the royal family was going to go next. _Leonore's suggestion_, Zelda reminded herself, realizing that she didn't really know what to feel about that…and, moments later, that she should have gotten over her grudge towards Leonore days ago.

Twenty meters and two right turns later, Link opened the doors to the main conference room of the facility, and as Zelda stepped in, she was greeted by the rising of around two dozen men and women already in the room, having been seated around circular conference table, talking and discussing amongst themselves, and waiting for the presence of her Royal Highness. Immediately notable within the group were the Minister of Defense, Major General Morgan, the Joint Chiefs, and Director Leonore. The remainder of the group was made up of a collection of generals and admirals, their aides, and a few members of record-taking palace staff.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Zelda greeted the members of the briefing conference politely even as she took the head of the table, marked by a larger chair directly opposite of one of the wall-mounted computer screens that could display various forms of media pertaining to whatever was at hand, but was at the moment carrying the national flag of Hyrule. The meeting joined her in taking a seat as soon as the crown princess was properly seated. Link, standing guard at the entrance, closed the door behind them and remained silent. From behind his tinted sunglasses, he kept his eye on both Princess Zelda and Director Leonore, the latter of whom couldn't have told whether or not her agent was looking at her through the tinted sunglasses, and showed no sign of noticing the reception of attention either.

Before the conference could kick off, however, one of the members of the Joint Chiefs, having been handed a handheld computer by one of his aides, quickly interrupted the proceedings. "I'm sorry, your Highness," he quickly spoke as he set down the computer in his hand. "I don't mean to be stealing the show from Major General Morgan, but I have an emergency update. We've received word that three Valentine armored divisions have been deployed across our border last night. We're still trying to get third-party confirmation from the usual sources, but intel at this point is fairly reliable."

A feeling of alarm flickered through the occupants of the room. Three divisions was the equivalent of anywhere between forty to sixty thousand soldiers, an extremely sizeable battle force. The fact that Hyrule City, the capital of the nation, was dangerously close to the Hylian-Valentine border, only seventy kilometers away, did not help the dreadful feelings of premonition any. "Are we looking at any possibility towards hostilities?" Zelda asked calmly.

"They do not seem to be operating in an offensive capacity yet," the general replied cautiously, "but it's a sizeable force under full battle readiness. We'd have to gather more intelligence on the rest of the Valentine armed forces before I can answer that question, your Highness."

Zelda sighed as she rubbed her temples with her fingers, then nodded. "We'll give you a bit of time for more updates to come in before we address that, then," she said. "I'm not fond of entering this kind of discussion without knowing enough. We'll approach this topic after Major General Morgan's briefing…unless anyone has anything else to add?"

Looks exchanged around the room revealed the consensus that the princess' proposal was acceptable. "I think we're safe to start the real topic of this conference, your Highness," the Minister of Defense answered as he spoke for the collective opinion of the room.

Zelda nodded again before turning to the host of the meeting. "Major General Morgan," Zelda addressed the middle-aged major general on the other side of the conference table, "Before we start with your briefing, I'd like to make sure that you've kept up with your promise of simplifying the acronym for the Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance. Impa here has expressed difficulty for her aged tongue to pronounce OLRER, and I admit I share some of the same reservations as well."

"My staff and I are already working on it, your Highness," Morgan, noticeably younger than most of the military brass gathered in the conference room and probably the only one with a more well-rounded higher education outside military academies, reassured Zelda as he leaned back in his chair and entertained the barest of amused smiles. "We're waiting for the official paperwork to catch up, as we are also changing the name of the entire office. In any case, we will have decided to rename ourselves the Office of Long-Distance Electronic Reconnaissance, your Highness, with the acronym of _OLDER_. I'm sure that's a name Impa can pronounce, relate to, and get behind."

Chuckles resounded around the table even while Impa made a face in response to being the target of the joke of the day. Zelda herself couldn't help but smile. "Well, then, that's out of the way. Go on, general. What do you have for us?"

The major general opened a document-filled folder right in front of him on the conference table, although the gesture seemed to be an indication of habit more than necessity, as he didn't spare a glance at the documents within. "On Monday morning, our P415 networks along the border of…" he started.

Zelda raised a hand from where they had been folded on the table to temporarily silence the major general. "I'm sorry to interrupt, general, but what's P415?"

Morgan cleared his throat. "P415 is our SIGINT, or signal intelligence, networks," he explained concisely, "comprised of different types of hardware and software designed to intercept, gather, and analyze communications. The program has been running since fifty years ago, and it's been designed to tap in on telephone communications, fax, internet connections, radio transmissions…and, nowadays, microwave transmission. Plus a few other theoretical methods of communication not actually implemented yet, but we want to be ready…" he paused, gave a slightly amused smile tinged with a bit of futility, noted in addition, "…You might know the system better by its name in popular culture, Echelon, characterized by the white, ball-like radome we use to intercept a large majority of transmissions nowadays." Clearly, Morgan found irony in how names were given unintentionally to military hardware, names that became even more mainstream and official than the actual designations initially given to them.

If Zelda caught onto Morgan's humor, however, she did not show it. "I see," she merely nodded, gestured at Morgan. "Please continue, general."

"Well, our networks across the Valentine border blacked out for twenty-three seconds at around eight fifteen. Came back online shortly afterwards with no immediate damage. An alert was not immediately raised due to the fact that we could not get sources to confirm that this was any sort of attack, electronic or otherwise, but further investigation from auxiliary instruments showed that Valent utilized some sort of electromagnetic power source to generate a pulse. We caught a brief shockwave of it, but it's believed that Valent achieved a rate of output no less than what can be measured in terawatts."

A period of silence pervaded the conference as the technical jargon flew over the heads of most at the table. Although Zelda and Leonore, as well as a small handful of others at the conference, seemed to understand exactly what Morgan was insinuating and looked quite obviously stunned at the revelation, the majority of those congregated were clearly confused and not-as-impressed…or as enlightened. "Terawatts…?" one of the military leaders at the table muttered aloud.

Morgan's voice was appropriately serious and somber, unlike the usually casual, soft voice he was known for. "That's an output rate of approximately one trillion watts. Twelve zeroes. We're talking about one trillion joules generated per second. At the very _least_. And the system blacked out for twenty-three seconds."

"Layman's terms, please, general," yet another member of the conference requested, clearly not entirely sure exactly of how powerful terawatts were supposed to be and whether or not he should be worried. "Not all of us had the chance to study anywhere outside Victoria Military Academy." Again, chuckles came from different parts of the table, especially from admirals and generals of the older generation.

Morgan drew a breath, exhaled it in what would've constituted as a sigh in more civilian surroundings. "Terawatts are what we use to calculate the total energy consumption on the entire continent, including clean energy resources, petroleum, coal, hydroelectric, everything," the major general said, and just as he had dropped the bombshell, watching the composed faces of the military brass around him twist into that of astonishment, he added, almost as an afterthought, the completion to this little shocker, "Every _year_."

The silence around the table became complete as looks of bewilderment were exchanged, the revelation dawning upon all of them at last, and this lasted until someone finally remembered to breathe, expelled a breath, which eventually brought everyone back to awareness.

Impa was the first to recover, and the royal chief of staff spoke in angry tones that betrayed her impatience and discontent. "This is absolutely unacceptable, General Morgan," she snapped in a manner not unlike how a mother would scold at a child. "You should have requested an emergency meeting on Monday for this, not push this until today, practically three days later."

Morgan sounded appropriately standoffish. "Three days ago, we had absolutely no idea what kind of energy output Valent was packing, nor any idea what had happened beyond our SIGINT network failing, ma'am. It wasn't until this morning that I had the preliminary figure. And it's a very vague estimate at best."

Sensing the possibility for a potential argument, Zelda quickly brought the conversation back on track. "And you said there were twenty-three terawatts produced?" she asked, her voice reasonable and soft even as she regained her composure, sounding surreally calm for someone who had just learned of this phenomenon.

The crown princess of Hyrule knew that she wasn't going to like the answer when she saw Morgan hesitate and falter before making a face and sounding unusually sheepish. "No, your Highness," he breathed, "I didn't. I said a minimum of twenty-three terawatts. It could be a lot larger. Maybe twenty times larger. We have no idea. We know twenty-three terawatts at _least_, but we don't know the maximum value."

It was Zelda's turn to sound incredulous. "How could you _not_?" she demanded.

Again, Morgan sounded defensive as he spoke briskly. "With all due respect, your Highness, P415 was designed to intercept _communications_, not massive energy waves. The accumulated wattage at which communications on this continent produces is, at the very most, measured in megawatts, and that is _very_ rarely. That is _six_ less zeroes. And eight-five megawatts is our current maximum threshold of P415's reception capability, which is almost forty times more than what this continent ever achieves. The Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance, despite its name, is meant to intercept communications, not actually detect massive bursts of energy."

"Another reason why a name change is necessary," Impa muttered under her breath. Only Zelda actually heard her, however, although Leonore managed to glean what Impa said by reading her lips; neither had the presence of mind or patience to entertain her attempt at a humor with a smile of any sort.

"So this will happen every time Valent does something like this?" Zelda asked, folding her hands on the table and leaning forward, her voice clearly laced with displeasure. "And we wouldn't be able to detect it?"

"I'm afraid so, your Highness," Morgan sighed regretfully. "The only piece of hardware capable of long-range analysis of energy waves with that kind of capacity that I actually know of is in the Cybil Laboratories." He pressed a few buttons on the conference panel in front of him, and, moments later, the screen behind him lit up with blueprints of what seemed like a highly sophisticated cylinder-like device. "They use it to detect the trajectory of high-power atmospheric orbital lasers."

"Sounds like a weapon," one of the admirals muttered as he stared at the blueprints.

"It's actually supposed to be a key device in part of an experiment to map the electromagnetic field of the planet," Morgan corrected, clicking another button before the screen showed an animation of the graph zooming out as a line, probably representing a laser, fired from the cylinder and revolving around curving arcs representing magnetic fields around the planet, "but that point is moot. Cybil Laboratories is under international obligation to be completely uninvolved in any form of military affairs since it started building the Large Hadron Collider twenty-five years ago. The Hampshire Treaty is in place to enforce that. No weapons manufacturing or research. No requests from the military. It's a strictly civilian laboratory."

An older, graying admiral sat forward in his seat as he leaned against the conference table. He was Fleet Admiral Francis, chairman of the Hylian Joint Chiefs, and, already in his late seventies, the only commissioned officer in the fleet to have weathered three consecutive royal administrations in Hyrule. "There's nothing either Valent or Gerudo could do if we asked Cybil Laboratories for just a bit of detection help," he spoke in a raspy, almost conspiring tone of voice, and heads around the table immediately turned to face the normally reclusive and silent admiral. "Deniability; we could always claim the device had been in use for civilian experimentation while Valent was…doing whatever it was doing." He shrugged casually, "A coincidence. The regime in Valent has not re-ratified any of the treaties the previous government had signed before, so they're in no position to point fingers." His suggestion was not at all surprising; the chairman of the Joint Chiefs had a keen interest in military intelligence despite it not being part of his purview, and many high-ranking officers of those branches and offices were protégés of his.

Despite working in the more clandestine areas of the military, Morgan clearly seemed less than pleased towards the idea of skirting international treaties to appease the needs of the Hylian war pavilion. "Only if Cybil Laboratories is willing to work with us," he noted. "In any case, it's impossible. The device requires a twenty minute warm-up sequence. The blackout lasted only for twenty-three seconds. We'd never be able to get a very good match."

The Minister of Defense sounded impatient. "Then keep it turned on until it happens again, goddammit."

The sigh escaping Morgan's lips – he was never one to stand on ceremony or care all that much about rank, even when up against a full admiral – clearly indicated that his patience was being stretched to the straining point. "Minister," he did his best to explain in a reasonable manner, "this device requires wattage measurable in gigawatts even in warm-up sequence, never mind how much energy it needs when it's actually in operation. There's a reason why Cybil Laboratories uses it for only one second at a time. The costs of keeping the device on for an entire day, never mind an entire week, just to try to catch that energy wave would bankrupt the national treasury very quickly. Not to mention that both Gerudo and Valent would be able to detect the energy output as well. No doubt they would be suspicious."

"Okay," Impa interrupted tersely, her hand creating a cutting motion across the conference table as she spoke, as if to dispel any attempt to interruption or confrontation. "Never mind exactly how much energy was produced. Working theory: Valent has some sort of energy source with unrivaled output ability. I'm pretty sure that we don't have any type of power source that can rival that, do we?"

"Not even close," the major general shook his head to indicate negative. "Even theoretical nuclear power, which has yet to actually be developed, achieves only wattage that is measurable by gigawatts. Predications say that no nation will be able to develop energy source with terawatt capacity until twenty, maybe thirty years from now…" he shrugged and looked sufficiently lost and resigned, "…I find it impossible that Valent managed to do this."

"Is it possible that this is an astrological phenomenon?" asked the crown princess. "Maybe we were mistaken, and this 'wave' came from somewhere else."

"No, your Highness, we're pretty damn sure about its origins. Plus we cross-checked with our Gerudo counterparts; it's Valent. There separate military bases, in fact. Hadrian Army Base, Hewitt Naval Base, and Elysian Air Force Base."

"Which essentially confirms that this is a military operation," a general cleared his throat, and his words seemed to attract the agreement of the brass around the table, who made similar gestures of concurrence as they nodded and exchanged whispers. "Possibly even weapons development."

If anything, Zelda was slightly disturbed at how rapidly the leading military leaders of her kingdom were willing to decide that this was a sign of Valent's preparation for military expansion. "We don't know that yet, general," the crown princess spoke in a tone that was a bit more sharp and icy than she had originally intended, made a conscious effort to soften her voice, then addressed Major General Morgan once more, "Are there any known power sources at any of the three bases?"

It was at this that the commanding officer of the Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance finally nodded, and the conference room screen blinked once more to show three highlighted dots on a digital strategic map of Valent, complete with pictures of what the occupants of the room recognized as electromagnetic power plants. "All three, your Highness, all electromagnetic. But these bases are actually locked into the national power grid, and so they keep the electromagnetic generators off unless there happens to be a blackout. We don't have any intel about them bringing the generators online Monday. That said, the generators wouldn't be able to reach terawatts anyways."

The chief of staff to the Hylian crown princess shrugged. "Maybe they built a new power grid there," Impa suggested. "Multiple power plants to achieve that."

"To achieve that kind of rate, you'd have to have dozens, possibly even hundreds, of these plants," Morgan explained. "I think we would've noticed from surveillance photos long ago if that were the case. Not to mention the latest photos were dated last month; there's absolutely no way, _no way_, that Valent could've mustered the manpower or industrial power to build that many power plants in one month's time."

"Maybe they're located underground?" the Minister of Defense suggested.

From her corner of the conference table, director of Hylian Joint Intelligence Leonore spoke for the first time since the meeting began. "The massive allocation of resources and manpower to do this would have caught our attention," she sounded rather calm and amused, and could practically feel the collective ire of her political opponents as she added rather slyly, "Joint Intelligence does a pretty good job at keeping track of things like that." No doubt various members of the brass found that last remark to be a personal insult; vital information on Valent's strategic movements, shrouded in a veil of secrecy that the isolationist nation was extremely jealous of, rarely came from anywhere else but Joint Intelligence, and the fact that Leonore was succeeding where the branches of military intelligence were failing was indeed a sore spot for many generals and admirals attending the conference.

Zelda was not oblivious to this shift in political inclinations, but she was hardly in any mood to address it, especially not now. "So we have absolutely no idea of what the power sources are," she muttered, "no idea how much power it produced outside a minimum estimate, and no idea what was being powered."

"Your Highness," the general who suggested that Valent was likely to be flexing its military muscle spoke again, "I think we may wish to consider the very good possibility that this is a prelude to a possible military operation."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the older generation of military leaders in the conference room, but Leonore begged to differ as she spoke again. "I wouldn't be too fast to condone all of us to war, gentlemen," she quipped. "This may not be a military operation at all."

"With all due respect," an admiral sitting across the table spoke in a voice that was just short of what could be called out as a mocking sneer, despite the fact that Fleet Admiral Francis looked disapproving of the sudden hostility and inappropriate inter-service rivalry, "Valent moved three entire armored divisions to the border in a seeming effort to bolster their defensive lines at around the same time, Director Leonore. Three separate massive energy waves were detected from three sources, all of which were military bases. It's a military operation."

"Not necessarily," Leonore shrugged, ignoring the obvious challenge in the admiral's voice and what were probably death glares coming from half the military leaders seated around her. "Valent's a nationalist military dictatorship. There's no other organ the nation would use to test what could otherwise simply be a power production experiment. Plus energy shielding is probably very poor, so I'm guessing this is prototype and untested technology, which would explain why, many great miles away, our P415 networks were affected."

"How do you explain the three armored divisions, then?" the previous general asked testily.

"Possibly a defensive measure against what we're assuming right at this moment," Leonore sounded like a patient schoolteacher, her voice almost soothing and deliberately soft, "that this is a prelude to a possible offensive military operation. Valent may very well be trying to make us think twice before responding to their actions. We don't have formal diplomatic relations, nor does Valent share anything with us, but that doesn't mean they don't know we're watching them, and it doesn't mean they don't know we're quite concerned about what they're doing on the other side of the border. They're just thinking three steps ahead of us. Besides, something like this? They probably want to keep us confused. They probably don't want us to completely realize what this energy thing is all about. They probably have some sort of technology that they know we'd kill to get our hands on, and they'd rather we stay the way we are right now: Confused and frustrated."

"Director Leonore," the minister frowned, "although I've faith in your insight, we cannot ignore the possibility that this very well _may_ be a military operation."

"And I didn't say the possibility didn't exist." The director of Joint Intelligence sounded placating. "We should be putting up one hell of a defense, readying our countermeasures. But we shouldn't be sitting here and assuming that war's about to happen in the next couple of days, despite the fact that the possibility is actually greater than I'd like to let on. That kind of mentality only increases the possibility that we'll really go to war."

"Leonore has a point," Admiral Francis noted in a surprise conciliatory gesture that turned many heads and invited many stares around the table. "Last thing we need is to give Valent a moral high ground. We can enjoy an alliance with Gerudo if Valent tries anything stupid, but not if we give enough reason for Valent to point fingers at us and say we started the fight. We should work up a good defense strategy, and figure out to what extent Valent is deploying its military, but not be aggressive about it."

"And continue looking into that energy phenomenon," Impa added.

"That too," Morgan conceded. "My office is ready to coordinate with Joint Intelligence and other related intelligence officers if needed." Leonore did not speak, but smiled casually from her end, indicating confirmation that she had no problems with Morgan's proposal.

"Do it," Zelda nodded to both heads of Hyrule's intelligence services. "I'd like to have enough information by three days to be able to address the issue directly and talk about what we may have to do about it."

"With respect, your Highness," Leonore quickly added, "in terms of technological issues, we may need to consult Cybil Laboratories…perhaps even ask for outright assistance. It's probably safer if Joint Intelligence heads up that front instead of OLRER, treaty and all. Still, I want to know how far I'm allowed to push them." She ignored the face that Morgan made, reflecting how he was not entirely keen on the idea, but remained relatively thankful that he did not actually voice his discomfort.

Princess Zelda made an odd expression that betrayed uncertainty. "I'm fine as long as no one from Cybil goes complaining for Senate oversight."

Chuckles were heard around the table at the expense of the old men that made up Hyrule's legislative body, all of whom would not have appreciated the princess' remark and were thankfully absent.

Seeing that Leonore was satisfied with the answer and that no one else had anything to add, Zelda moved on. "In the meantime, I want to talk about our defensive strategy and what we're going to do in response to Valent's military activity…"

Now that the briefing itself had been completed, the administrative leaders of the nation's defense began to knock their heads together with a particular goal in mind, coming up with an effective way to ensure the country's security should something untoward arise from Valent's decision-making. The general consensus, unfortunately, was that, due to the nation's heavy isolationist policy, it was difficult to ascertain exactly what Valent was up to. Since the coup d'etat nearly two decades ago, Valent had also entered no conflict other than suppression of dissidents and rebellions, all of which happened only during the first decade of the regime change. Therefore, in terms of intelligence, Hyrule's war pavilion could only use heavily outdated information on Valent's military deployment strategy – coming from the Second Continental War sixty years ago – and combined that with advancements in modern technology, as well as what little Hylian intelligence knew about Valent. By no means was the process accurate, but the eventual consensus was that Valent, should it actually be preparing for an offensive somewhere, would be able to execute an effective operation three to five days from now after all preparations were complete. A quick roleplay amongst the generals and admirals was done, and both Princess Zelda and the Joint Chiefs agreed that their estimation of Valent's battle readiness preparation time was as accurate as they were going to get, as a second simulation revealed that Hyrule's offensive forces would take just short of a full week to prepare and mobilize an offensive against any nation, and that Gerudo would take just a day less; these were figures not too far from the one they derived for Valent.

After consulting with the Defense Minister, Princess Zelda convinced the conference that she would be able to talk down any Senate opposition to shoring up Hylian defenses, which the Joint Chiefs promised would be at full readiness once all the necessary military defensive protocols were activated and personnel deployed, a process that was predicted to take just a few hours less than three full days, which should be enough to meet the pressing deadline. The Gerudo option was explored; there was a good chance that Gerudo would provide foreign military assistance if Hyrule was attacked, and Zelda announced she would attempt to raise these odds by means of diplomatic phone call to Generalissimo Ganondorf later in the afternoon, if not early evening, and the Minister of Defense promised to pull whatever favors from his friends he could as well.

Satisfied that whatever issues they could address for now had been so – and silently praying these countermeasures were not actually necessary – after nearly two hours in the conference room, the Crown Princess of Hyrule adjourned the meeting.

* * *

Admittedly, Zelda was not entirely certain what to feel even as the Grand Hall elevator doors closed, and, moments later, the elevator car began to ascend again up to the diplomatic meeting rooms two floors above, this time with six passengers instead of five. Impa, of course, was still there, as was Link, and there were the two palace guards standing on both sides of the elevator doors. There was also one extra passenger: Director Leonore. As was custom, Princess Zelda and her entourage had been the first to leave the underground facilities of the palace's west wing, and they had the elevator to themselves. Which was why Zelda had found herself a bit unnerved when Leonore swiftly caught up with them just as the group entered the Grand Hall elevators, a stunning display of alacrity that the princess had not been expecting. Furthermore, Link had simply just stepped aside from where he stood right in front of the elevator doors as a sentinel, allowing for Leonore to pass unasked and unchecked. It was understandable, of course, considering that Link was technically on _Leonore's_ payroll and not on _Zelda's_, but, personally, the princess couldn't help but wonder if this would ever turn into a contest of loyalties.

And then she told herself to dismiss the thought. Link was only an interim bodyguard anyways, and would be replaced sooner or later. Zelda attempted to persuade herself that this was nothing to be worried over, that things would move on smoothly, and that she would be comfortable with the coming transition.

For some reason, she didn't feel very convinced at all.

"Excuse me, your Highness?" Leonore had asked, her voice polite and not unkindly as she stopped half-inside the elevator. "May I have a few moments aside? It's important."

Her misgivings aside, Zelda knew well enough that when Leonore said things were important, it deserved her undivided attention. It also meant that a good block of time should be carved out, though, and the princess wasn't all that eager to keep Doctor Hal waiting longer than he should. "Can you wait for a few minutes?" she had asked, but otherwise took a half-step back, a motion Impa mimicked, a clear sign that Leonore was free to join them in the elevator car. "I have an important appointment to rush to right now, but it shouldn't take too long."

Leonore had nodded courteously as she stepped into the car before the elevator doors closed. "Of course, your Highness, although I admit speed is of the essence."

And now the elevator car was decelerating as it reached the third floor.

The white, brightly-lit corridors of the palace revealed themselves once the doors parted, and Link stepped out first, followed by Zelda, Impa, and Leonore. The palace guards saluted where they stood and did not move; they were not required to escort the princess any further at this point. Moving toward one of the nearby doors that would lead to the meeting room where Doctor Hal awaited, Zelda nodded courteously to Impa and Leonore. "I'd like to see Doctor Hal alone for a moment. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

Of course, before the princess had realized it, Link had already moved past her, opening the door and stepping in. Temporarily stunned at what she at first interpreted as complete disregard towards her order, she ignored the surprised looks on the faces of both Impa and Leonore as she stiffly stepped into the room as well. Already, she was looking at a standing Doctor Hal, who looked fine enough, if not slightly puzzled at the Joint Intelligence agent standing before him. Zelda prepared to speak, but Link, as if reading her mind, held up a finger as if to silently ask her to give him a moment, then proceeded to conduct a quick search on Doctor Hal. Feeling rather embarrassed at the spectacle, Zelda gave a disapproving look at Link when he finally turned around and nodded to indicate the doctor was clean; the agent then proceeded to exit the room, closing the door behind him.

Doctor Hal was, for the most part, exactly how Zelda remembered him since they first met more than a decade ago: Aging, thin, and exhausted. Lines were beginning to form on his face that indicated the age and stress, and his graying hair was only testament to that. His suit and tie should be the same set that he always wore, yet they seemed almost a bit too large for him, a clear indicator that he had thinned…which was dangerous at his age, him already in his late fifties. His tired smile, even more fatigued than usual, sent waves of worry down Zelda's spine; Hal was insistent that Project Durandara was not what was eating away at him, but if not, what was?

"Your Highness," the doctor greeted politely with that exhausted smile of his.

Zelda was equally courteous. "A pleasure to see you again, Doctor Hal," she replied, then, in a slightly embarrassed manner, gestured towards the door where Link undoubtedly stood guard outside along with Impa and Leonore, "I'm sorry about my interim bodyguard; he can be a bit overzealous."

"He's only doing what he's supposed to do," Hal chuckled. "Although no doubt he's captivated by your charm."

The princess suppressed an urge to make a face. "You flatter me. How's your family?"

A shrug pronounced Hal's answer. "Oh, you know. Gabriella threatening divorce, kids refusing to speak with me…the all-too-universal characteristics of a work-a-holic."

Inwardly, Zelda cringed even as she fought down a grimace, opting for a more saddened expression instead. Contrary to her hopes, Hal's family situation, having deteriorated over the last couple of months, was not getting any better at all. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Hal's smile was not unkindly. "Don't be. I asked for the work, I suffer the consequences. Anyways. This…" he quickly steered the subject towards more comfortable territory as he reached into his jacket pocket before plucking out what seemed to be a miniature data storage flash drive the size of a lighter, handing it over to the princess, "…is what you asked for."

Glad that Hal had tactfully switched the topic for her, Zelda adopted a more serious expression instead as she gingerly took the delicate flash drive, studying it. To her satisfaction, the device looked like any other flash drive, although the silver color of the device did not betray the fact that it actually _was_ made of a silver-titanium-carbon alloy. "Everything I asked for is in here?"

"Everything and more," the doctor confirmed, then, in a more hesitant voice, continued slowly and deliberately. "I'd like to say that it'll perform beyond my expectations, your Highness, but I don't think you need me to remind you that this is purely experimental, and I cannot guarantee success without running simulations first…which, as you well know, is an impossibility at this point."

"I remember, but thank you for the reminder," Zelda reassured Hal even as she gently slipped the flash drive into one of her hidden dress pockets, then sincerely addressed him on a more personal basis in a softer voice. "You've worked on this more than anyone else; I probably should fill you in, let you know exactly…"

Again, Hal gave his tired smile even as he blinked once in a remarkably long manner, holding up a hand to stop his princess mid-sentence. "I'm sorry to interrupt, your Highness," he apologized, "but it's really alright. Chances are I don't really want to know. Anything that can chance MPs knocking on my door at night and infuriating my family even further is something I want to actively avoid."

Zelda managed a humored smile. "I see. But thank you regardless. You must've put a great deal of work in it."

"Sleepless nights are sleepless night," Hal shrugged good-naturedly, then he dropped his smile as he once again followed more traditional court protocol in front of the princess, now that their unofficial business had concluded. "This is really all I came by for. I shouldn't be taking up any of your time; I saw Director Leonore waiting for you outside. Bet whatever she has to say is more important." Hal began to bow out, preparing to complete a gesture of respect for her Highness and leave the room, but Zelda quickly reached over, a hand quickly securing his arm as she took one step closer. Her hushed, conspiring tone immediately caught the doctor's attention, who understood that this was not any form of advance than it was a secretive discussion.

"Doctor, I have to ask," Zelda's expression was serious and devoid of humor, her brows slightly furrowed into a bit of a frown. "Are you aware of any energy technology capable of achieving twenty-three terawatts of output?"

The fact that she had never seen Hal actually upset in any way before made the doctor's dark look of apprehension and foreboding that much more frightening as he gave Zelda a worried glance and muttered, "So the rumors are true."

That spiked Zelda's interest. "Where did you hear the rumors?" she asked.

Hal managed to look appropriately sheepish and embarrassed without actually having to smile, unusual for the good-natured scientist. "Let's just say," he noted in an almost whimsical manner, "I'd be concerned about how well the brass over at the Haven can keep secrets, your Highness."

Zelda had to consciously prevent herself from scowling, the urge translating instead to a mere controlled nod. "Duly noted," she replied, allowed three seconds for Hal to speak once more, then, realizing that he wasn't taking the cue, added, "My question still stands."

"About the technology or about where I heard what I wasn't supposed to hear?"

"The former."

Pursing his lips in what was almost a sign of discomfort and insecurity, Hal responded hesitatingly, "I know of a few practical technologies, all of them theoretical. No nation has the capability of achieving more than twenty terawatts within twenty seconds at the moment."

"Let's assume the technology exists for a moment. Any idea what it can be used for?"

"Could be used for powering a city grid," the doctor suggested casually with a straight face.

Zelda frowned; it was easy to see that she wasn't being impressed by the doctor's strange sense of humor – or sardonic behavior, if it were that – at the moment. "Hal, this is Valent we're talking about."

It was only when Hal, Zelda's tutor and mentor for so many of her childhood years, looked back at her after turning away with a heavy sigh that she realized Hal, the doctor with the sad, tired smile, would not, for once, be able to provide his princess and pupil with an adequate answer. "I honestly don't know, your Highness," he whispered even as he gave that melancholy curve of his lips once more, tucking his hands into his pockets as if the movement registered futility. "No reply I give you would really come close to being a confident answer. All I can say is? If it's Valent that has its hands on that kind of technology, I really wouldn't be sleeping soundly if I were you."

When Doctor Hal realized that the weight of his words had clamped down on Zelda's lips and that she, in her cold realization and worry, could not quite formulate a good response, Hal sadly smiled for the last time as he completed the bow he wasn't able to the first time, and, just as he passed his princess, patted her on the shoulder in the manner that the tutor used to do to the pupil, taking advantage of a moment that pronounced their old relationship. That done, Hal allowed his hand to slip off Zelda's shoulder, and walked quietly out the door.

* * *

"…but keep me posted. Inform the palace staff that I'll take care of her Highness, and that they should remain on alert."

Admittedly, Zelda was not giving Leonore her undivided attention even after the two of them, escorted by both Impa and Link, returned to Zelda's officer on the upper floors of the palace. She wasn't entirely sure what was upsetting her. That Doctor Hal had no good answer for her was of little surprise, not when the leading experts and intelligence and reconnaissance had gotten nowhere with finding out the truth behind Valent's energy surge. It still unnerved Zelda somehow, however. Possibly because he had always had all the answers Zelda needed when she was a child and he her tutor, or possibly because he _was_ the leading researcher for most of Hyrule's scientific projects, one of the most brilliant minds of the century, if not any century. His words somehow carried far more futility than it did from anyone else.

Zelda shook her head. She was being bothered by too many things these days.

"My apologies, your Highness," Leonore interrupted Zelda's thoughts even as she slipped a cell phone back into her pocket.

"What was that about?" Zelda tried not to make her voice sound bored and distant. She wasn't entirely sure she succeeded, but Leonore showed no sign of noticing…probably out of tact rather than obliviousness.

"I had Joint Intelligence call me anytime they received an update for our situation at hand," Leonore answered. "For obvious security reasons."

Nodding in a half-hearted gesture of understanding, the crown princess sighed once more as she looked back down on her desk, papers that Leonore had brought with her neatly placed upon the surface. "You understand I need proof before I can bring any legal charges against Admiral Francis," she remarked, and looked up to bring her troubled gaze to Leonore. Behind the director of Joint Intelligence were Impa and Link, both of whom remained silent. Impa could be trusted to make a comment when necessity called for it, while Link could be trusted to not contribute to the conversation unless asked.

"Not anything I can use to incriminate him yet," Leonore allowed. "But I must remark that this looks awfully suspicious, especially in light of Admiral Francis' current actions."

Sliding a cluster of financial statements and bank documents back over to Leonore, seated on the other side of the desk, Zelda seemed less than convinced; perhaps she deliberately put on such an impression and façade. "I can think of a long list of unethical reasons as to why Admiral Francis is pumping Allen-Rosencrantz," the princess leaned back against her seat. "But his actions are hardly illegal."

Leonore shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. But you may want to look at this from a different angle, especially if you're familiar with Allen-Rosencrantz's background."

"I'm listening," Zelda shrugged.

"Allen-Rosencrantz is a dummy corporation set up by Valentine-founded Rainer Conglomerate Industries three decades ago. Under the Free Technology Trade Act, foreign companies conducting technological trade in Hyrule require a legal partnership with a similar Hylian company; the idea at the time was that shared technologies would prevent the likelihood of extremely sensitive technology being leaked, not to mention a lessened possibility of technology theft. It would be too easy to legally commit technology theft with this act, so it was, in a sense, a measure to force companies on both sides to be careful. This also added a layer of security for both sides of the deal, especially since encryption systems could be shared. Also added a layer of financial oversight. Rainer Conglomerate Industries used Allen-Rosencrantz to sell technology onto the Hylian market…while absorbing technology from its Hylian partner and not having to disclose actual high-level technology, which RCI guarded safely, to its partner."

Zelda did not need Leonore to elaborate the situation step-by-side as she immediately understood the unspoken words behind Leonore's explanation, already moving two or three steps ahead. "You're suspecting that Allen-Rosencrantz might still be affiliated with RCI despite it having moved most of its Valent-based assets to Hyrule after the Valentine Revolution," Zelda spoke softly but with an edge in her voice even as she leaned forward, clasping her hands together right in front of her chin while she settled her elbows on the desk. "If it's true, this can raise some rather complicated problems, especially since RCI has undoubtedly been 'nationalized'."

"And can easily be acting as a front for Valentine intelligence, yes," Leonore concurred.

Giving herself several moments to mull these new pieces of information over and attempt to fit them together to weigh possibilities, it was not until fifteen seconds later that Zelda asked, "How far do you think Admiral Francis' involvement goes?"

"Unknown. Worst case scenario is that he's in full collaboration with Valentine intelligence – which I doubt. Hopefully, he's merely an unwitting pawn…but that doesn't make him less dangerous. I'm not surprised he's suddenly putting Hylian forces on alert. I'm supposed to inform you…" she plucked out her cell phone and waved it in her hand, referring to the call she had received earlier, "…that security measures have been increased, now that he's declared a raise in threat level."

Zelda scrunched her brows into a clear frown. Events were moving far too fast for her liking, and she did not believe in coincidences occurring in rapid succession. Her lips parted as she prepared to speak, but she had not managed to utter the first syllable when a flash outside her window, combined with what felt like a distant rumbling, caught her attention. She wasn't the only one that had noticed it; Leonore suddenly rose to her feet as her attention went towards the window, Impa seemed surprised and looked in the same direction, and Link was already moving towards the princess briskly and rapidly.

One second later, the sound of what sounded very much like an explosion was finally reached Hyrule Palace and shook the glass windows even as the sound reverberated in the massive office.

"What was that?" Zelda asked, immediately alarmed as she rose to her feet and attempted to move towards the window, but Link had already grabbed her by the arm and was moving her out of the office, ignoring feeble resistance from his princess, followed immediately by Leonore, who shared the same brisk determination and understanding as Link, and Impa, who was less certain of what was going on but not reluctant to follow where everyone else was going.

The explosion that blasted through her desk where she had been sitting before and tearing down that half of the office, even as Link immediately pushed Zelda onto the ground and shielded her with his body while rubble rained around them and dust engulfed her surroundings and the shockwave overwhelmed her senses, answered her question just as she lost consciousness.

* * *

Although Princess Zelda had no way of knowing at the moment, the three Valentine tank divisions that had been moved to the border the night before were joined in the afternoon by another tank division and four infantry divisions, raising the total number of troops at the border to a stunning one hundred thirty thousand soldiers that was reorganized into the Valentine Sixth, Eighth, and Twelfth Corps. The ground forces had in possession more than four hundred armored vehicles, including tanks and artillery pieces. Like most successful surprise attacks in history, Valent achieved complete surprise through the very judicious use of the radio, ensuring that the Hylian Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance would not be able to intercept their communications, and chose to move their forces in conjunction with bad weather where photo-optic surveillance would be more difficult.

Although Princess Zelda had no way of knowing at the moment, the three corps initiated a three-way blitzkrieg against Hyrule City, with the Sixth and Eighth Corps taking up positions north and south of the city to cordon off the city from enemy reinforcements and provide artillery support, and the Twelfth Corps conducting the actual invasion of the city, having been specially trained for urban combat. The operation had been deliberately set at dinner time, where most of the capital staff would either be eating dinner with their families or on their way home, and wouldn't be able to immediately respond to the incoming threat.

Although Princess Zelda had no way of knowing at the moment, the Sixth and Eighth Corps had pinpointed and destroyed various targets of opportunity within the city using long-range artillery within the first hour of the operation, including the McKinley Air Force Base, Fort Patterson, and the Haven, Hyrule's military headquarters. This not only deprived the defending Hylian forces in the city of sufficient cover and defenses upon which to fall back, but also greatly reduced the number of deployable soldiers, many of whom were caught in artillery fire while at the base. Many more soldiers, having been off-duty, were unable to procure their weapons and equipment in the chaos that ensued, and were casualties in their own right. Most importantly, it deprived the entire nation of its military command, and left the Hylian armed forces across the country uncoordinated and uncertain of what to do next, giving the Valentine army several valuable hours to secure the capital city as infantry and tank divisions flooded the streets, slowly but surely eliminating pockets of Hylian resistance in ferocious house-to-house fighting. The city was already beginning to experience ruin as primary power was cut, and the capital went dark even after secondary emergency generators came back on, dooming the city to imminent takeover. Valentine air power, having sent up an air wing to secure air superiority with just shy of one hundred fighter jets, added to this dreadful premonition, ensuring that aerial reinforcements from Hyrule could not assist in the defense.

Although Princess Zelda had no way of knowing at the moment, the attack on Hyrule City was by no means an isolated offensive; aside from the army and the air force, the Valentine navy had also been activated, with the Third and Sixth Fleet keeping Hylian naval forces in the Aurora Ocean north of the continent at a stalemate, preventing superior Hylian naval power from providing long-range support to its army and air force cousins. And while the Valentine Fifth and Eleventh Corps continued to vigilantly defend their borders from a possible counterattack, the newly-organized Fourth, Seventh, Ninth, and Tenth Corps, two hundred and fifty thousand strong, crossed the Gerudo-Valentine border and launched their assault on northwestern Gerudo, taking three separate cities completely by surprise. Two wings of fighter-bombers complimented the assault, and the Gerudo capital was saved only by its great distance from the Gerudo-Valentine border as its northwestern territories fell before the Valentine onslaught.

Although Princess Zelda had no way of knowing at the moment, the opening shots had been fired by Valent, and the war had started.

* * *

**Exoria File #001  
Uniform and Color Coding of Hyrule**

The advancement of Hylian society from medieval ages to modern ages has seen more uniformity and simplicity when it comes to clothing for official stations. The usual suit-and-tie dominates Hyrule's government offices now, replacing men and women dressed in varying, unique robes and tunics. Not a nation to lose its taste of aesthetics, however, Hyrule has still maintained the use of designs and color-coding to indicate the department and rank of government officials everywhere. As the national colors of Hyrule are blue and white, most uniforms incorporate some form of blue into their clothing. For example, the staff responding directly to the royal family, such as Impa, Zelda's chief of staff, can be found wearing clothes of blue and purple. Class A uniforms for commissioned officers of the military can be found in white and blue with angular design; these designs tend to become more simple as rank goes up, surprisingly. There are, of course, exceptions; most intelligence services choose to utilize black suits and ties with white shirts to make it difficult for non-intelligence personnel or foreign spies to immediately recognize which agency they belong to, with the exception of Joint Intelligence, which has an all-black clothing scheme, such as Link. Except for departments related to the military and intelligence services, higher-ranked officials in Hyrule's departments may choose to wear their own clothes to work as long as they follow the traditions and colors of their office as opposed to the standardized uniforms.

**Exoria File #002  
Hylian Joint Intelligence**

Until five decades ago, Hyrule's intelligence agencies only possessed intelligence-gathering protocols and equipment, leaving actual black operations and counter-terrorist operations to the clandestine arm of the military. It required cooperation between two rather unrelated departments, which did not always go well. Military intelligence specialized only in wartime intelligence, and did not possess the proper capability to operate small-scale, clandestine operations where terrorism, counter-insurgency, and assassinations may be concerned. During the Second Southern Gerudo Civil War, the Hylian royal family secretly signed Direct Executive Order #1942, which created the Office of Joint Clandestine Operations using selected personnel from both Hyrule's various intelligence agencies and the military in an effort to launch highly clandestine and coordinated covert operations into Gerudo to secure Hylian interests while maintaining plausible deniability. It effectively functioned as both an intelligence-gathering organization and a covert armed service. Its performance in the civil war was highly exceptional, which led to the Office of Joint Clandestine Operations being upgraded to the umbrella organization for all of Hyrule's intelligence services while being renamed to Hylian Joint Intelligence when the organization was eventually declassified and made known to the public. Despite public awareness of the organization, much of Joint Intelligence's operations, protocols, and modus operandi remain top secret. They are assumed, however, to have first priority when it comes to equipment and manpower in the Hylian intelligence community, and the Director of Joint Intelligence is known as one of the few people who are "allowed to wake the King with a nighttime telephone call". Due to its near-universal role in intelligence-gathering, however, Joint Intelligence has effectively earned a small degree of ire and contempt from military and other intelligence agencies, who see them as having far too much influence. Lenore is the fourth Director of Joint Intelligence, who was designated by her predecessor after much personal pressure from the Hylian royal family.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Crown Princess Zelda neither dreamed nor hallucinated in the hours she had spent unconscious, so she did not wake startled into a world dimmed by battle and destruction, and yet, strangely enough, the moment she opened her eyes in awakening was also the moment that all of her previous recollections – namely, an artillery shell having taken out half her spacious office while Agent Link was moving her out – came back to her, and there was an instant where her intellect placed all that information into place in a way not unlike how a child would put together a jigsaw puzzle before she realized the predicament she was in. The calm realization that she was somehow caught in some sort of battle over the city – the dim lighting in the room she was in, coupled with distant sounds of gunfire and explosions, confirmed this – dawned upon her rather rapidly even as she slowly sat up from where she had been lying down, and it frightened her how fast she was able to accept this. Leaders were supposed to dread the day that their nations were caught up in a war on their own soil, and pray it never happened; that she could accept the situation so rapidly suddenly made Zelda quite self-conscious of how she was supposed to feel for her nation.

Expectedly, Link was the first to see that Zelda had regained consciousness, and his movements, fluid and subdued, caught the attention of Impa and Leonore nearby as the Joint Intelligence agent moved over to ensure his princess was safe. Leonore seemed sufficiently upset, as if what was happening was a great irritation, while Impa was quite distressed, obviously having been concerned over the well-being of her charge. Already, Link was beside Zelda, helping her up to a sitting position; as the princess' mind cleared, her eyes adjusted and she saw that she was being propped upright on a sofa. The lights were out – probably due to power being cut somewhere – although the dim glow of emergency lights illuminated the area just enough for Zelda to realize that she was in one of the palace's many safe room bunkers, an armored, security-sealed room in which the Hylian royal family, as well as key members of government, could be hidden and locked-down if the palace was ever attacked…such as now. Zelda recalled the specifications of the bunker, a ten-by-ten meter safe room, well-furnished with carpets and sofas, possessing enough food and water to last three individuals locked down inside for a week. The doors were reinforced and password-locked, preventing forced entry. The armor was formed from a C-carbon allotrope, and could withstand a direct hit from a ballistic missile. _Although_, Zelda reminded herself, _if we're in a safe room on the upper floors, we'd probably still be killed when the Portland stone structure of this palace fails, and we come crashing down to the ground._

She decided not to share her worries with the other three occupants.

"Your Highness," Leonore was the second to reach Zelda as soon as she sat up straight in the sofa, shaking her head once to clear the haziness from her mind. "How do you feel?" The black, compact handgun in Leonore's hand was equipped with a silencer. Already, Impa was moving herself past both Leonore and Link, looking highly stressed as she quickly placed her hands on Zelda's shoulders, ascertaining that the princess was truly alright. The display was actually rather endearing, and Zelda allowed herself to entertain a small smile.

"I'm fine," she confirmed, more for Impa's sake than Leonore's. "Just a bit dizzy…" she stopped there, then, looking down the purple royal dress she had been wearing before, slightly tarnished by dust but otherwise undamaged, asked a bit uncertainly, "…Are there any wounds I should be aware about?"

The shake of Leonore's head dispelled Zelda's worries. "No, your Highness," she confirmed. "You were knocked out by the shockwave of what I guess was an artillery shell that hit your office. We didn't find any wounds on you, so you should be fine."

Zelda nodded; it was good to know that she was still in a position to take command of the group – no matter how small – if necessary. "How's the situation looking out there?" She rose to her feet slowly, making sure she didn't overstrain herself as she did. Thankfully, no wave of nausea ran through her head, something she had been half-expecting. Link immediately stepped back to give the princess some room, making sure his hand was slightly outstretched to provide support for Zelda if she needed it; she didn't.

Impa applied a bit of pressure on Zelda's shoulders, trying to have the princess sit back down on the sofa as concern and disapproval flickered across the older woman's face. "Your Highness, you should rest…" she murmured.

"I'm fine, Impa," Zelda reassured her chief of staff even as she gently brushed Impa's hands off her shoulders, smiled kindly and reassuringly at Impa. "I need to know what's going on. How long was I out?"

"Around three hours," Leonore responded, as if the question had been directed towards anyone in general instead of Impa, and Zelda barely noticed Link moving away from the peripheral of her vision. "All reports seem to indicate that we're facing a very coordinated attack from Valent forces. We still aren't sure of their capabilities or numbers. We _do_ know that there's enemy infantry and armor on the city streets, and that they have both artillery support and air cover. We've managed to intercept fragments of enemy communications; there have been three different corps mentioned so far. Local resistance has been extremely underwhelming…" Leonore paused, took a deep breath, then sighed even as she spoke at the same time, causing Zelda to steel herself mentally, knowing that the news she was to receive was not good at all, "…Your Highness, the Haven was one of the first targets they took out. We practically have no coordination amongst our forces right now, local or nationwide."

The reception Zelda had towards this update was pronounced with a notable cringe. "Absolutely none?" she asked weakly.

The director of Joint Intelligence made a strange, almost sheepish smile. "Well, I tried coordinating with the soldiers I was able to reach, which only numbers amongst several companies right now, but…" she produced what seemed to be a map of the city with the rough positions of known Hylian defenders and known Valentine aggressors…hastily and completely hand-drawn on printing paper with a ball-point pen, "…as you can see, the verdict is out on that one."

Zelda's heart felt like it had dropped to her stomach. "I don't suppose we should hope that our soldiers can hold out until reinforcements come?"

It was Impa's turn to shake her head. "I'm afraid not, your Highness. Never mind the fact that local defending forces are heavily outnumbered; they are cut off from the Haven's armory and have no access to extra weapons or ammunition. The last time we heard from them, the navy was only barely managing to achieve parity in the Aurora Ocean, and will not be able to provide support. McKinley Air Force Base was one of the first targets hit, and the Valentines have air superiority in the area. Most of our regional commanders outside the capital are still trying to procure confirmation of the situation…"

"…Which no one is providing," Leonore finished.

Only after seconds of silence and a rising urge to sit back down on the sofa did Zelda realize that she was trembling. Her two-year-reign over Hyrule had seen some of the greatest dilemmas for the country's national defense and security, yet a solution – or at least a temporary countermeasure – could always be found if she concentrated hard enough. Yet with what sounded like complete Valentine supremacy over the theater of operations, Zelda felt, for the first time, completely helpless and powerless. _How could it have come to this?_ Zelda wanted to ask. She felt as if her heart had turned to ash and been blown away. But in front of Impa, Leonore, and Link, she knew better. As long as there were subjects before her, she could not afford to show any weakness that would instill any form of doubt in those she was meant to command. She had to make the best of the situation.

Unsuccessfully forcing herself to stop trembling, Zelda asked quietly, "Any word on my father?"

"We received a report about an hour ago that the King was being evacuated from his West Arlington private residence," Impa was quick to respond, "accompanied by an armored platoon and his medical staff. We haven't received any word or update since."

"Can we raise them back on the radio?"

Leonore gestured lazily towards the radio equipment that Zelda noticed was on a table at the end of the room for the first time, Link silently attempting to adjust the dials and buttons on the radio. "The enemy has been jamming our communications for the last half hour. Link has been trying to circumvent it, but…no luck in that department." At the mention of his name, Link turned around to gaze upon the conversation going on around him, then provided a suspiciously apologetic shake of his head before turning his attention back to their link to the outside world.

"What about the local populace?" Zelda demanded. "Civilians?"

"Evacuating civilians and non-combat personnel was the first thing our armed forces started doing as soon as they got confirmation that the Haven was hit," Leonore confirmed with a nod. "They figured the battle was lost and decided to try to get as many people out of there as possible. That's one thing our armed forces did right. As far as we know, though, they've either already pulled out or have been whittled down. The pockets of resistance I've been coordinating with have largely been soldiers that have been cut off from the main army, or volunteered to stay behind and hold the line. Frankly, I don't know how far they've gotten with the evacuation effort, or if there's even still an evacuation effort in this city."

The pursing of her lips and the intensifying of her lowered gaze were clear signs that Crown Princess Zelda was working her legendary intellect into overtime. Her arms hugged themselves across her stomach even as she slowly paced the dark, carpeted room. Her thoughts quickly gained momentum as she assessed possible options and priorities, looking for a possible way out of this mess…or at least a way to salvage the situation and minimize damage. Both Impa and Leonore were appropriately silent as they watched Zelda silently tick away, the quiet interrupted only by the occasional bursts of static as Link attempted to toy with the radio to no avail.

It was when Zelda refocused her gaze on Impa and Leonore that the occupants of the room understood Zelda had gotten somewhere with her brainstorm. "The first and foremost objective we need to achieve is to re-establish our chain of command, confirm contact with our armed forces across the nation, and gain a line of communication with Gerudo. We were attacked first without provocation; we should have the moral high ground, and Gerudo will be obligated to assist us. A Valentine invasion into Hyrule works to Gerudo's favor; their economy is being kept afloat only by trade with us, as their national economy is dropping due to their recession."

"You're suggesting that we leave the safe room and find somewhere to reorganize and regroup," Leonore spoke slowly and deliberately.

For some reason, Zelda couldn't help but feel that Leonore's voice reflected disapproval. "You do not sound like you agree with my train of thought."

It was Leonore's turn to purse her lips, although it was less about trying to see the big picture as much as it was trying to force the big picture onto her princess. "Your Highness," she continued to speak in that word-by-word manner with lack of emphasis on any particular syllable, "we currently have lost contact with the only other living sovereign of this nation. I beg your forgiveness for saying so, but your father's survival is only symbolic in nature; his Majesty is not capable of taking the role of active sovereign of this nation. The mantle falls upon you, your Highness. If you were to be captured by Valentine forces by leaving this safe room – a safe room which the Valentines don't actually know you're in, where we can stay low for a week – it may permanently cripple both the morale and the effectiveness of our armed forces."

"I cannot raise the morale or effectiveness of my troops if I am locked away here without outside contact." Zelda's voice sounded icy; she was not certain why she was being so confrontational towards Leonore.

Leonore did not take the bait and remained calm. "No, you cannot, but at least you won't be causing morale to skydive. We're only several hours into the attack, but our armed forces _will_ eventually learn that the capital was attacked. The remnants of our military forces _will_ find a way to coordinate with each other, even without the Haven, and they _will_ initiate a counteroffensive on Valentine forces here in Hyrule City. We can stay here, safe, for a week until reinforcements arrive. And if you are captured – a very real possibility, as we are without backup against an invasion force – you are giving the enemy a chance to gain codes that a member of the royal family and the director of Joint Intelligence are privy to. We don't need to give the enemy another advantage needlessly."

Although Zelda seemed rather calm and composed, anyone looking at her could tell that she was holding back a certain amount of anger…anger at Leonore, anger at the situation, or anger at herself, no one was entirely sure. "You're suggesting that I stay here like a coward while waiting for reinforcements."

Despite attempting to stay calm and reasonable, Leonore, Link noticed even as he quietly listened in to the conversation, was slowly beginning to become more irate at the princess' behavior, which almost seemed to be singled out towards Leonore. "No one doubts your courage, your Highness," Leonore sighed. "But you must look at the situation from an objective point of view. You are the _sovereign_ of Hyrule; your personal pride cannot come before the welfare of this nation."

The two women looked at each other in a chilly impasse, both standing and staring down at each other in what was clearly an intensifying exchange of scrutiny, appraisal, and frustration, if not outright distrust. From beside, Impa nervously pursed her lips as she looked from one female to another, while Link pretended he did not notice the heated debate going on. Zelda and Leonore glared at each other unimpaired.

Zelda finally spoke first as she closed her eyes, seemingly in an effort to dampen what was undoubtedly rising ire; it was the first time in a long time that she had actually gotten into an outright argument with a high-ranking member of her government. Yet as much as Leonore made her arguments – armed with very good points, Zelda had to admit – she could not bring herself to follow Leonore's suggestion. Was it honestly on part of her own judgment, or a bias against the woman who had sent her half-brother to her death? Zelda honestly wasn't entirely sure, but emotions were running high, and even if she didn't like to admit it, they were, in one way or another, affecting her judgment.

"Duly noted, Director Leonore," Zelda finally breathed in allowance, as much as she was going to give the director of Joint Intelligence. "However, I still press my point. We may not have the luxury of a week. Judging by what you'd told me about the Valentine invasion effort, I believe that we may be facing defeat anyways if we do not attempt to coordinate our counteroffensive efforts immediately. My staying here, awaiting for rescue, matters little if our military forces are destroyed."

Leonore's lips were pressed into a thin line, almost invisible had it not been against the backdrop of pale skin pressed tightly together. "You don't know that will happen, your Highness."

"You can't be sure my capture is certain either," the princess countered.

Again, an impasse, except Leonore's self-conflict on this issue was much more apparent. She knew she didn't have the authority to stop Zelda; it was more of a matter of how to talk sense into this hardheaded princess. Therefore, Link was mildly surprised – to the point where he actually turned his head around back towards the conversation for a moment or two – when Leonore finally sighed in a mixture of exasperation and futility and conceded to Zelda's point.

"Alright, your Highness," she breathed deeply. "If I cannot dissuade you from keeping yourself out of harm, allow me to make a suggestion as to your destination instead."

An eyebrow raised. "Which is…?" Zelda asked.

"Garuda."

It was Impa's turn to sound inquisitive. "The capital of Gerudo?"

"The Hylian-Gerudo border is only a bit further than the closest military base that we've not received a report of an attack on so far. And although we haven't heard of any attacks on nearby military bases outside McKinley, I'm willing to bet that nearby regional bases were hit hard too. It'll be difficult, if not outright impossible, trying to get there if there's a battle over these bases between our forces and theirs. By comparison, Valent probably figures that Gerudo requires several days to decide to support us militaristically, even more to properly garner the military forces for the counterattack, making the border a more feasible option. Plus Garuda City has a developed infrastructure for you to properly communicate with and command Hylian forces in the nation, and I'm sure Generalissimo Ganondorf would be more willing to acquiesce to your requests if you meet him in person. If we can put the Gerudo military into play, it'll also be easier for the two nations to initiate a joint-campaign against Valent if both of you are in the same room."

This was an argument that Zelda was not able to refute; it was highly unlikely that, with what had happened so far, Gerudo would ally with Valent, considering Generalissimo Ganondorf's staunch stance against the Valentine isolationist regime. The chances that they were in covert cohorts were even lower; Joint Intelligence had been watching the movements of the generalissimo and his staff for years. "I concur with your analysis," Zelda nodded. "We should split into groups of two. It'll decrease our chances of being discovered, as well as the chances of all of us being captured at once. It won't do us any good if the crown princess, her chief of staff, and the DJI are all caught in one go."

"I agree. I'll go with Impa. Take Agent Link with you."

Despite almost expecting such a pairing, Zelda couldn't help but look surprised. Link, now that he was mentioned, finally detached himself from his futile attempt of circumventing enemy jamming and joined the circle, although not the conversation. For the first time, Zelda consciously realized that the Joint Intelligence agent was still wearing his sunglasses despite the dim lighting.

Leonore caught Zelda's look and quickly explained. "Link is better trained for field work than I am. He and I are the only ones that have had field training, so we have to be apart, escorting one of you. But you'll have better chances with Link than you'll have with me; I've been sitting behind a desk for too long."

Impa was just as quick to agree. "She's right, your Highness," she spoke in a placating voice that made Zelda suspicious of Impa's intent, as if her chief of staff was trying to defuse an argument rather than look for the best choice of action. "You're far more important to the strategic effort than I am. The entire effort _must_ be focused on you."

The frown on Zelda's brow clearly showed that she didn't like the idea, not out of suspicion or disapproval, but worry over her chief of staff, the woman who had been watching over her almost like a mother for what had been eighteen years. Feelings of worry and anxiety flickered across Zelda's face even as she struggled with her inner feelings over this decision, knowing that neither Impa nor Leonore would accept any other option, not when the safety of their princess was at stake. "Impa…" the princess whispered even as she took a step closer to her chief of staff, temporarily indifferent to what was otherwise a large crack of her queenly mask.

Impa offered what amounted as a reassuring smile from a woman who had seen enough of age to be unafraid of death. "Worry not, your Highness," she reassured Zelda, and, for a moment, they were, once again, chaperon and child instead of servant and princess, an adult comforting a child. "I'll get to Garuda City safely. This old woman still has some flame left in her. You keep your head down, and make sure you get to Garuda safe and sound, alright?"

Leonore offered the two a moment to themselves even as she took to another corner of the room, Link silently joining her; he knew that she wouldn't be letting him off the hook without at least the briefest of briefings. Sparing Zelda and Impa a quick glance, Leonore turned her attention to the young Joint Intelligence agent. "I don't think I need to tell you how long the odds are going to be," she muttered; her voice edged close to an exasperated sigh.

Strangely enough, Link felt a genuine calm settle over him. It wasn't any type of bravado as much as it was an uncanny absence of anxiety. It wasn't that he wasn't appreciating their abysmally low chances of escape; Link nodded, confirming that Leonore's analysis was right: It was going to be a _very_ long shot. The chances of being killed were, in fact, quite high. He appreciated the odds, but it was mostly that, an appreciation of the statistics and the outcome; emotions and personal premonitions didn't come into it.

Noting Link's agreement and seeming lack of fear over what was otherwise a suicide mission, Leonore let out a true sigh this time. Signs of worry flickered across Leonore's weathered face, but they only lasted for a moment before her features hardened themselves once more, and she sounded like a strict disciplinarian. "No matter what happens," Leonore quietly instructed, ensuring that Zelda couldn't hear her, "remember that you're protecting the princess. Her life is priority, so you must take any option that means her survival..." she allowed her point to sink in for a few seconds before adding, rather importantly, "…even if it means surrendering to the enemy forces."

That surprised Link some; although Leonore couldn't see his eyes, she certainly could see the eyebrows behind the sunglasses arching in interest.

"Don't get into a firefight or a situation that might get the princess killed," the director explained. "I don't like her plan, but it's her plan. Just make sure she stays alive." She closed her eyes in what otherwise seemed like an expression of frustration, then sighed. "The same goes for you too. Someone needs to keep an eye on the princess, even if both of you are prisoners of war. I doubt they'll give you the chance to declare yourself a civilian despite the fact you're a member of Joint Intelligence, not the military."

There was clear hesitation on Link's part – surrender clearly had not crossed his mind before Leonore mentioned it – but he eventually nodded slowly, if not somewhat apprehensively. Leonore managed a small smile; the young man had never failed any attempt to prove his courage, and now this was the result. She took a moment to pat the agent on the shoulder twice, as if the gesture was a wish of good luck, before she removed her hand from his shoulder and, adopting a more serious expression, turned back towards Zelda and Impa. "We need to go," she said sternly. "The later we leave, the easier it'll be for the Valentine forces to lock this city down. We need to move while there are still pockets of Hylian resistance left to occupy Valentine attention."

Seeing that it was time to go, Impa took a step away from Zelda, moving towards Leonore; Zelda was clearly reluctant to see her chief of staff go, but the crack in her queenly mask was beginning to repair itself, and, again, she seemed more composed, more sure of herself. "It's time," Impa whispered.

Leonore checked the magazine of her silenced handgun, then slid the cartridge back into the handgun, cocked it. "We'll go first, see what's up ahead, attract attention if we have to," she said even as she stood beside the control panels to the metallic blast doors. "That way, if something happens to us, at least you'll have room to turn around." She made a motion for Zelda and Impa to seek cover, and they quickly moved up against the wall; Leonore keyed in a command, and let the double doors slide silently away even as she stacked up on the right side of the exit, preparing to engage any hostiles that might just be outside waiting for them. Link mimicked the motion on the left side, his hand reaching under his jacket in preparation to pull out his sidearm if needed.

The doors made a muffled click as they slid fully open and stopped on both sides of the entrance. There was no one outside in the darkened corridors, lit only by ambient moonlight and fires from a distance outside. Somehow, despite the battle having started only a bit more than three hours ago, Hyrule Palace felt like it had been abandoned for over thirty years instead. The feeling felt unsettling to Princess Zelda.

Slowly sticking her head out into the corridor, Leonore confirmed that there was indeed no one outside. She was more concerned of a patrol than an improbable ambush, which would've been a much larger force that would not need to rely on stealth camped right outside the door; there were dozens of safe rooms across Hyrule Castle, and the Valentine forces wouldn't have known which one Zelda was in anyways. After ensuring the coast was clear, she quickly stepped out. The click-clacking of her high-heels alerted her to that potential problem, and, without hesitation, she quickly took them off and threw them back into the safe room, deciding to go barefoot. Impa, with a bit more hesitation and much more reluctance, copied the motion.

Ensuring that Impa was behind her and following, Leonore turned back around to see both Zelda and Link standing there with stoic expressions on their faces; it was only natural for Link, but Leonore could tell that the lack of expression on Zelda's part was forced. Leonore gave what was an otherwise unreadable glance towards Link for just a few seconds…before turning her attention back to the princess. Her words were soft and kind as they left her lips. "Take care, your Highness, and be safe. We'll see you in Garuda."

And, with those words, the two women disappeared into the darkness.

Zelda stood there, watching where they had disappeared in silence and invisible anxiety. Link was not a mind reader, but he could tell what the princess was thinking, and decided to allow her to keep to herself for the time being. He checked himself over for a quick moment, making sure that his attire – black suit, black shirt, black tie – were all in order and that they wouldn't become a liability later in combat. Three minutes had passed on his watch when he decided that he had allowed Leonore and Impa to take long enough a head start, and stepped in front of Zelda, out into the hallway. He swiveled his head around, glanced over his shoulder even as he drew his handgun from under his black jacket, nodded to his princess with the clear message that it was time to go. It was only several seconds later that Zelda quietly nodded back.

They, too, moved on into the darkness.

* * *

That electricity was cut turned out to be a blessing of sorts to both Link and Zelda. While the entire Hylian defense system was offline and local resistance had little in the way to retaliate, it did mean that it provided both of them with an extra measure of stealth. This was especially so for Link, dressed entirely in black, whose clothing allowed him to camouflage with his darkened surroundings; this effect was only drastically enhanced by his proficiency in covert operations and stealth infiltration. This was less so for Zelda, who neither wore black nor was trained to be sneaky, but her clothing was dark enough and matched the blue hues of Hyrule Castle.

For the most part, they passed undetected even as they painstakingly made their way slowly through the palace, Link taking up the fore and silently motioning for Zelda to follow whenever he made sure the coast was clear. Their attempt at sneaking out was assisted by the fact that there was, in fact, very little in terms of Valentine forces in the area. In fact, the only Valentine soldier found in the area was a straggler or two looking for a place to lay low; it was clear that the aim of the operation was more pragmatic than it was symbolic, and the priority was the Haven over Hyrule Castle. Capturing the princess would be an excellent development indeed, but destroying the Hylian armed forces' capability to coordinate and react was an even more important strategic goal.

It was ironic, but the greatest threat to their national strategy was, in fact, the factor that was giving Link and Zelda quite a bit of good fortune at the moment.

Electricity no longer reached the elevators, and Link wouldn't have allowed them to take the elevator even if they had been activated anyways, so descending from the safe room – which turned out to be on the sixth floor – to the basement became an effort to conquer the downward descent of various staircases. They were, thankfully, for the most part, empty, and it took them less than half an hour of careful navigating to get down to the main wing and find the auxiliary emergency staircase, the one that wouldn't ring the still-active alarms, to the basement.

The basement was completely unlit save for a few emergency lights, and moonlight did not seem to come down to the lower levels at all, but, thankfully, Link was equipped with a small flashlight that seemed to be built into a pen. It was, by no means, powerful, but it was enough for them to make out roughly where they were going. It was by turning down several hallways that Zelda realized Link was taking her through a little-known underground passageway that linked the Senate Hall to Hyrule Palace more than a kilometer away. Under normal circumstances, the corridor would be sealed via several locked metallic doors running on independent generators, as well as armed soldiers at both entrances, to prevent unauthorized entry. There were no soldiers here, however, and the metallic blast doors were opened with Zelda's personal password, which allowed them to move on and seal every door behind them.

The Senate Hall was host to a battle at some point. As they emerged from the basement of the Senate Hall, Link and Zelda quickly saw that the walls were marked with a great deal of bullet holes, while walls had crumbled away from what seemed like artillery fire and explosive weaponry. The shape and frame of the massive seven-story building were still largely intact, but the damage was extensive enough for Zelda to cast forlorn looks across what was once a magnificent work of architecture. She did not necessarily miss the building, representing her two years of struggle against opposing senators on the floor of the Senate, but, as if the distant sounds of gunfire and explosions didn't do so, the devastation around them drove in the point that the enemy was winning.

The point was even more obviously pronounced when they came across the first dead bodies.

The path from the Senate Hall to the Haven was the length of two city blocks, both of which housed government office buildings, yet the entire path was filled with the corpses of dead soldiers and burning vehicle husks, Hylian and Valentine alike. It was clear that a furious battle had been fought here, but the overwhelming number of Hylian bodies, limp and sagging on the ground and behind cover, made it clear that the invasion force was simply overwhelming, and the Hylian defenders never stood much of a chance. It was at this scene of destruction and death that Zelda truly felt a sense of dread as she covered her mouth with a gloved hand, her eyes wide in what was not necessarily fear, but shock and revelation. She couldn't tell what Link felt about this; his sunglasses blocked out any attempt to read his feelings through the eyes. Sensing the slowing of her pace and the hesitance of her gait, Link quietly but empathetically took Zelda by the wrist and helped pull her along, deliberately staying close to walls and alleys to avoid patrols…and ensure his princess was away from the death and the carnage. The brittle breaths that Zelda took clearly indicated that she was shaken to the core by such a sight.

It was the sight of a devastated capital city.

Things only got worse as they emerged from the last alley and re-emerged to see the side of the Haven. Although they were only at the perimeter, next to a metallic barbed wire fence that had been run down, they could clearly see that this was the one point where the fighting had been most ferocious. Half the building was gone and burning; a pillar of black smoke was cast with an amber light from the flames below that burnt what was left of the Haven, a collection of rubble created from two hours of heavy bombardment from the Valentine Sixth and Eighth Corps, armed with large artillery pieces. Once the symbol of Hylian military might, the building now lay in shambles; Hyrule's military headquarters looked like they were ancient ruins, and the tanks and fighting vehicles guarding it had been destroyed and abandoned. The battle for the Haven was clearly over, and the only people left here were Valentine patrols guarding the relic of their decisive victory. There was a strange lack of dead bodies, something that Link appreciated…because he knew what Zelda didn't: Most of the bodies were _inside_ the building, buried beneath the collapsed superstructure, being caught in the collapse when the artillery blasted the Haven.

It was either her shock or her feeling that Link seemed to know exactly what he was doing that was contributing to Zelda's silence, not asking exactly where Link was going despite having been led across half of the capital's city center for over an hour. But Zelda hesitated just a bit as she realized Link was pulling her _inside_ one of the entrances of the Haven, at least one that was still intact. Link felt just a bit of resistance in Zelda's gait, turned around to see exactly what was wrong. She seemed to realize this, and made a flustered expression at being caught; to be honest, she had been hesitant to enter what she now considered a ghost building. A very human reluctance to enter a place that was likely to reinforce her belief that they were losing and _dying_ had taken over for just a bit…but she quickly shook her head to make up for it. "It's fine," Zelda whispered quickly, trying to reassure Link that it was okay to go on…

…Then froze as, in the peripheral of her vision, she caught sight of a three-man Valentine patrol emerging from the rubble of the Haven's outer walls twenty meters away. The widening of her eyes was enough of an alert for Link, who immediately turned around and adopted a feral position. The opposition, three fully armed soldiers wearing green military fatigues and carrying assault rifles, saw them too, and froze just a bit; it was clear the patrol had not been expecting to find any survivors.

Link did not freeze. Already his left arm came up, shooting into a straight line as the sidearm in his hand quickly aimed at the Valentine soldiers up ahead, crouching even as his free right hand immediately shot for Zelda's shoulder without looking, pressing her down into a crouching position with him. It was only as Link outstretched his weapon that Zelda suddenly realized that the handgun was actually quite fancy, elongated, and bulky; it seemed more like a large machine pistol or a small submachine gun than a simple semi-automatic handgun. She probably would've wondered how Link – and all the other Joint Intelligence agents, for that matter – managed to keep so large a weapon under their jackets without other people detecting a bulge under it, and she probably would've assumed that this was the responsibility of some specially-designed feature in Joint Intelligence uniforms…had her life not been in immediate peril. As it turned out, the threat against what possibly was her life was one hell of a distraction.

In her fright, Zelda did not immediately notice that Link's firearm had already discharged. It was only after one of the Valentine soldiers suddenly dropped to the ground with a clean hole in his chest that she realized Link's handgun was internally suppressed, the muzzle flash cut down to a minimum and the gunshot sounding akin to a hands clapping underwater. With one soldier down, Link's aim immediately shifted ever so slightly to the right, and a double-tap, two shots in rapid succession, brought the second man his knees as the shots found their mark in the chest once more. Even as the second man fell, however, Link did not try to align for a third shot; in one fluid motion, he quickly spun backwards even as his right arm scooped itself around Zelda's thin torso and pulled her back with him. A near-dismissible fraction of a second later, automatic assault rifle rounds pinged across and tore at the stone wall that Link had been beside just a moment before, the third soldier completing the raising of her rifle and firing at the corner behind which Link and Zelda were hiding.

Even as Zelda pressed and huddled herself against the wall – she was actually strangely in control of her wits, yet shaken at her first time being subjected to gunfire – she noticed that Link seemed to be muttering something voicelessly; although she was no lip-reader, she could've guessed that Link was mouthing numbers. It was not until Link feinted a peek out, allowing his body to show the barest of a fraction beyond the corner he hid behind and into the line of sight of the soldier he was hiding from, and not until the Valentine soldier fired once again at the hastily-abandoned corner before Link started mouthing numbers again that Zelda realized that Link was trying to count the number of bullets still in the soldier's assault rifle before she had to change magazines, giving Link an opportunity to advance.

Unfortunately, what Link knew – and what Zelda did not know but could guess by the proximity of the gunshot sounds she had heard that round – was that the soldier had traversed a considerable amount of ground between the first and second rounds. There was no longer enough distance between the two of them for Link to try to make the soldier expend her magazine – which contained roughly, Link guessed, thirteen rounds – and force an opening.

This required a very different set of tactics.

Zelda could not exactly see what was happening, but she could guess – and rather accurately so – that the situation was dire, and that a handgun in the hands of an unarmored Joint Intelligent agent was not a very good match against a fully automatic assault rifle in the hands of a Valentine soldier wearing combat fatigues. She did not, however, take one factor into account of her breathless analysis as Link silently thumbed a switch on his weapon: His handgun was not a handgun at all.

For Crown Princess Zelda, it happened in an instant. The soldier had barely managed to round the corner, keeping a range of two meters around the bend, when Link shot forward. There was one flash, a flash that actually made Zelda cry out as her hands instinctively covered her head and the adrenaline spiked through her system, her mind instantly making the assumption that a shot had been fired…before, through the gap in between her arms, Zelda suddenly watched, stunned, as the assault rifle was severed cleanly into two in the hands of the Valentine soldier, who watched with equal disbelief as the forward portion of her assault rifle simply slid off and began falling to the ground. The flash had surprised the soldier, and reflex told her to immediately take three steps back even as she pulled on the trigger of her now-defunct assault rifle, clicking futilely three times every time she slammed on the trigger.

Link followed up with three wider steps forward, and training and instinct immediately took over as the Valentine soldier quickly took pulled out a combat knife for close-quarters combat. There was a second flash, and, in that instant, the knife was flying out of her hands, sparks flying where something had struck across it blade and knocked it violently out of her grasp.

There was a third, final flash…and Zelda watched in wide-eyed silence as a clean gash appeared across the chest of the soldier, as if something had slashed across it, and she, too, finally fell to the ground lifelessly.

It was only after confirming that the Valentine infantrywoman remained unmoving on the ground that Zelda finally returned her gaze on Link, who stood calmly with one hand extended in the air in what almost seemed like a composed fencing stance. The weapon in his hand was no longer a handgun; instead, what was effectively a seemingly collapsible blade emerging almost a meter from his grip, formed from what seemed like a number of smaller blades, creating a weapon that bore a resemblance to a longsword, albeit one with the handle of a firearm. A flourish of his arm allowed him to trigger a switch on the weapon once more, and Zelda finally understood why Link's weapon had seemed bulky and long compared to a normal sidearm; as the blades folded on itself twice by power of mechanical bolts, they locked themselves back around the barrel of Link's firearm, hiding the blades once more like a giant collapsible army knife as it took the form of a large handgun once more.

It was only then that Zelda realized Link's weapon of choice was a gunsword.

From the distant reaches of her mind, Zelda barely managed to recall that the gunsword was an exceptionally difficult weapon to use, never mind master, by design; it was neither fully gun nor sword, but a bastardization, something in between. Their high learning curve and difficulty in usage made it impractical for conventional military usage, considering how few soldiers could manage the weapon and how expensive it was to create one. Most gunsword wielders used it as a custom weapon rather than as standardized equipment. This was the first time she had actually ever seen one in use.

Ensuring that the coast was clear once more, Link quickly moved back to where he had left Zelda, three wide steps away and pressed against the way. She seemed shaken, as if she hadn't been before, but still possessing a great deal of calm. It was the adrenaline, not denial as to what was happening to her, that was temporarily causing her body to shake and turn cold, and Link knew that she would be alright. Even Zelda, who huddled herself close together as she hugged herself tightly, managed a small smile at Link's otherwise stoic self, an indication that she was fine. "N-Not every day that I get…" Zelda managed, swallowed, fought down a shake, then let out an embarrassed giggle, "…get shot at."

Link did not smile, but the loosening of his normally serious features coupled with a futile shrug indicated that he appreciated the attempt at humor. Whatever he would've done next, however, was interrupted as his head twitched just once from the direction of the rubble, and, immediately, with both arms, he quickly grabbed his princess and twisted further into the entrance, just as assault rifle fire from a second Valentine patrol tore through the air where they were once before, the patrol quickly converging on their position. Without hesitation, Link swiftly pulled Zelda further into the building, deciding against getting into yet another firefight with Valentine forces while having to protect his princess. It certainly did not take long for the two of them to disappear within the ruins of the Haven and lose their pursuers, if only temporarily.

* * *

The Haven was remarkably hard to navigate. This had nothing to do with Link's extent of familiarity with the structure – he had been here often enough – or Valentine patrols within the ruins – there were very few of them, with most patrols concentrated around the perimeter of the building. Instead, the main problem was the extent of the building's destruction; many hallways and staircases had been utterly destroyed and were effectively gone, and far too many times did Link have to double back with Zelda to find a detour after finding out their path was cut short with a corridor that had caved in.

Link knew he did not have much time to navigate the ruins. They had already been discovered by Valentine patrols, which must have already radioed back to their commanding officers. This meant that a search party would be sent, hunt-and-kill teams sweeping the interior of the Haven. It left him with little time to move, but he found his lucky break when one of the staircases leading down proved to be remarkably intact. The sign at the bottom of the staircase, reading "Armory", confirmed that he was headed in the right direction.

Pushing through the door, Link found himself leading Zelda along a corridor of white bricks and metallic bars; long cages to their right were filled with military weaponry, from assault rifles to machine guns to grenades to rocket launchers. Unlike the other parts of the Haven, the arsenal of the Haven ran on an independent power source that the Valentine forces seemed to have yet to find and cut, so the area was well-lit, and the security systems were still on. This included the entrances to the armory cages, but handheld weapons weren't what Link was looking for right now. No matter how powerful a weapon he found here, he wasn't about to engage the Valentine patrols by himself while having to watch over a vital package in the form of Crown Princess Zelda. He moved right beyond the armory cages, through the door at the end, and down another hallway.

The white brick walls eventually turned into a combination of gray metallic and concrete corridors, and it was at the end of the hallway that the two stopped before another set of security code-locked double metallic doors, clearly labeled "Garage", indicating the military arsenal for armored vehicles, not parking spaces for Haven employees. Inwardly, Link was actually quite relieved at the sight; the heavy blast doors must've been locked when personnel were evacuated from the Haven, and without heavy breaching equipment, Valentine soldiers must've been locked out. They probably decided it was more prudent to secure the entire city first before destroying the doors and helping themselves with the whole package of military vehicle goodies. It meant that there shouldn't be any Valentine troops beyond…and that the vehicles inside should still be untouched.

Tapping the access code – memorized from years of reading briefing packets from Joint Intelligence – into the security console beside the door, Link unlocked the door and listened in silent satisfaction as the reinforcing cylinders rolled away, the lock-jaws unclenched with an audible click, and both doors rolled silently apart.

The lights of the garage were already on. It was within that Link found a mother lode that would make any adrenaline junkie or mechanic have wet dreams for the night: Rows and rows of military vehicles, from tanks to armored personnel carriers to infantry fighting vehicles to buggies to humvees to artillery to mobile ballistic missile launchers. Organized in sections and rows, the army of vehicles lined down to as far as the end of the garage more than two hundred meters away, a steel-and-concrete cache of weapons that probably would've beaten back the Valentine invasion…had the soldiers that were supposed to man them got here.

Link did not hesitate in moving forward as soon as the doors were open, although he still remained alert and kept his weapon out even as he stepped in – considering the vehicles dictating the terrain here, this was a very bad place to be caught in an ambush – but he stopped when he realized that Zelda wasn't following and turned around to see what was wrong. To his surprise, Link found his princess…seemingly afraid. It was a different kind of fear than the one he had witnessed when she was caught in the crossfire with Valentine troops. Although she tried to hide her anxiety, her hands were clasped together tightly while her lower lip trembled just a bit; her gaze was seemingly toward the garage itself. As soon as she noticed that Link had turned around, however, she quickly shook her head with a bit of a flustered expression, and returned to Link's side. "It's…" she muttered, took a deep breath, then, with more conviction, "It's nothing."

Not entirely convinced, Link shot a quizzical look at Zelda, wondering if there was anything he should be worried about.

Zelda successfully read that look. "I have a…slight fear of vehicles," she explained in a somewhat feeble manner, giving a small smile of slight embarrassment. "It's…my parents. Both of them…" She trailed off, leaving Link to figure out the rest. Thankfully, the fates of the Hylian crown princess' parents were well-known to the public, and Link knew exactly what she was referring to. Not at all unsympathetic, Link gently placed a hand on Zelda's shoulder, provided a reassuring nod, as if telling her everything was alright.

To be honest, Zelda found Link's silent way of offering reassurance rather amusing. She wasn't sure if his intended effect worked, but the gesture was humorous enough to raise her spirits a bit. "It's okay," she assured Link, "I'll be alright. Procuring an escape vehicle is more important right now."

Slightly confused but largely glad that they were getting a move on, Link merely nodded before he continued to move on, closing and sealing the blast doors behind him, then deliberately taking a low crouch as he moved through the thin gaps between the vehicles instead of the broader roads between the sections that separated vehicle types and models, ensuring that Zelda followed. It gave them a semblance of cover and invisibility; Link had no intention of walking down an open lane and being put down by the sniper hiding somewhere in here. It was unlikely that any Valentine soldier had gotten down here yet, but he didn't want to take chances.

"So," the princess whispered even as her eyes darted left and right through the arsenal of military vehicles, trying to find something that caught her eye as something that would make for a good escape vehicle. "What kind of vehicle are we looking for?"

Link didn't answer, but quickly moved to another section of the garage, where lighter vehicles were lined up, including humvees, jeeps, and two-seater reconnaissance buggies…which Zelda ventured was moreorless the agent's way of saying "something light and fast". He certainly was avoiding tanks and infantry fighting vehicles, for the most part, even though they bristled with heavy firepower. Clearly, Link's priority was geared more towards getting out of the combat zone than busting his way out. Made sense, the crown princess conceded; no one would be looking forward to diving headlong into a firefight with no backup, no reinforcements, no allies, and against a numerically superior enemy with greater firepower. Plus Link was probably focusing only on how to get Zelda out of there. That realization alone helped her mood some.

Although Zelda was not familiar with the layout of this garage, and although Link stepped in irregular patterns, going here and there, she could help but feel that Link was actually looking for something in particular, yet did not know where it was. That problem, however, was remedied when he finally stepped out from the vehicle sections and towards one of the walls of the garage, which had various blast doors connected to them, similar to the one they had entered through. Unlike the one they had passed through, however, these double metallic doors had any combination of words and symbols on them, some denoting restrictive access, others marking engineering teams assigned to whatever project was behind those doors, and even more with what seemed like emblems and insignias not unlike those found for military outfits.

It was roughly in the middle of the entire length of that wall where Link stopped, moving to one set of blast doors that seemed identical to the others. Unlike the others, however, the paint on the steel plates were unusually plain, for the blast doors bore only what seemed like a serial code: MRX402A ULATRV. Moments later, after Link keyed in what was probably a code or a command into the lock console next to it, the unbolting of locking mechanisms were unheard, reinforcing metallic cylinders rolled away, and, with a quiet hiss, the blast doors slid smoothly and soundlessly apart, the lights behind the doors flashing on with industrial power and revealing what was inside.

Zelda could only stare, wide-eyed in utter astonishment and disbelief at the vehicle behind the blast doors. "…_No_," was the only word she managed to shakily breathe, taking a slight half-step back even as she uttered that one word. Her phobia aside, she could handle any other vehicle…but she wasn't getting on _that_.

Link only grinned.

* * *

Sergeant Blanche was relatively glad that her patrol route was actually quite derelict and abandoned. Although she had initially been very nervous when she first received orders that she would be patrolling the area around the Haven, the military heart of Hyrule, her expectations of heavy resistance were quelled when she actually got to the scene; the once proud building representing Hylian military might had been reduced to ruins and rubble after the Sixth Corps pounded away at it with artillery. Resistance was nonexistent; all Hylian personnel must've already been evacuated or killed, and the Valentine fireteams dispatched to the area were told that this should be a relatively quiet sector.

If it was any reassurance, the area was actually rather well-lit by moonlight and fires despite power to street lighting being cut during the early phases of the invasion. Other than a few darker alleys that had been cleared out by hunt-and-kill teams an hour ago, the patrols commanded good nighttime visibility. The cityscape glowed with a faint orange; flames of war burned in the distance…which was exactly how Blanche liked it. Not that she was fearful of actual live combat, but she'd rather keep her men alive and away from flying bullets.

Her fireteam of four had actually been split into fire and maneuver teams of two in the interests of covering more ground. A good portion of the initial patrol had been sent inside the Haven along with military intelligence staff in an attempt to see what documents they could salvage from Hyrule's military headquarters. Probably not a great deal; Blanche was relatively convinced that the Hylian brass – or Valentine artillery – must've destroyed any vital documents or data…not to mention the intelligence effort just seemed halfhearted and lackluster as a whole. She wasn't exactly sure how to explain it, but it seemed as if the intelligence team themselves did not actually expect to find anything…or even care about what information they found here.

On what was probably the seventh round of her patrol across her part of the Haven, the familiar voice of their commanding officer crackled across the radio. A bit of a surprise; as Corporal Roger, who was tasked with her on the same two-man fire and maneuver team, would sarcastically put it, "I thought HQ had forgotten about us." For now, Blanche quelled that same sentiment even as she listened carefully to the update.

"All units in the Haven armory area," came HQ's broadcast, "two high-profile targets have been spotted headed in your direction. We believe that they're attempting to escape the area. Stop their escape, and try to capture them alive."

"Patrol 2-5, copy," Blanche replied immediately. "We'll keep our eyes peeled." She immediately re-slung her assault rifle on her shoulder, angling it to a better ready position just in case she needed to be quick on the trigger. Beside her, Corporal Roger did the same even as the other patrols confirmed that they had received new orders over the radio. Like the rest of the light infantry outfit they were part of, the two were both equipped with assault rifles, a handgun, grenades, bulletproof armor, and a helmet with a pair of fold-down nightvision goggles…which should be more than enough to take care of two strays. Blanche still felt that the green fatigues that represented the national colors of Valent did not suit the modern battlefield at nighttime as much as the blue fatigues of their Hylian enemies, but their nightvision goggles and superior numbers should be enough to compensate for that.

"Hey, you hear that?" Roger suddenly stopped in his tracks and bent his knees a bit in caution, slipping his assault rifle into a ready position. Blanche copied his movements while frowning; the corporal had always had better senses, whether it be hearing or sight, than her, making the sergeant feel just a bit inadequate. Quite a bit of effort was put into straining in the attempt to hear whatever Roger was hearing until she was certain she heard something that sounded like a the motor of a vehicle roaring away. Or, rather, screaming; the distant, muted exhaust sounds seemed to distinctly indicate a small vehicle with higher torque.

Blanche looked at Roger, and the two traded silent nods that communicated more between longtime comrades than what words could accomplish for two random individuals. No point in taking chances.

The radio was immediately in Blanche's hands even as the engine sounds, Roger noticed, began to fade. "Come in, HQ."

Battalion headquarters was quick to respond. "This is HQ."

"Patrol 2-5 here. We think your strays may have procured an escape vehicle. Confirm there are no friendly vehicles rolling around in the area and that we're not mistaken?" Blanche realized that she couldn't hear the engine sounds anymore, and, looking at Roger, quietly noted that even her own sensitive partner couldn't either.

Although his voice didn't reflect it, Lieutenant Colonel Ford, Blanche knew, probably would've appreciated the thoughtfulness of ensuring that it wasn't a friendly vehicle the patrol was hearing. "Stand by" were the two words that came before a rather lengthy pause, with HQ checking all known Valentine assets in the area, before the answer came, "Confirmed, all vehicles are operating roadblocks in your area at this time and standing fast. What vehicle did the targets escape in?"

"We didn't actually…"

Blanche did not finish that sentence.

It happened suddenly. The whining of the engine had only become audible for a single second, but it was clear by its rapidly increasing volume that the vehicle had suddenly become very close. Both Blanche and Roger had barely turned around towards the source of the sound in great alarm, fearing an ambush, when more than four hundred kilograms of sleek, black, polished metal suddenly flew right between them, soaring with so much force – enough to crush either Valentine soldier had it not slipped right between them – that, for a moment, both soldiers were stunned to immobility. It was traveling extraordinarily fast, almost three hundred kilometers per hour, but, for some strange reason, time seemed to slow down for Blanche. It didn't do her any favors in terms of allowing her to raise her rifle to shoot the vehicle any faster – or regain her wits any faster, for that matter – but, just for a moment of astounding clarity, she could've sworn that, upon that vehicle, she saw a young man dressed completely in black wearing sunglasses – yes, sunglasses, even though it was clearly nighttime – calmly sitting at the controls of the vehicle. Yet what caught the sergeant's attention more was the young lady, decked out in a purple dress and sitting _behind_ the young man, a very obvious look of terror on her face even as her arms formed a tight death-grip around the young man's torso, refusing to relinquish her hold on what may be the only physical entity keeping her from being thrown off.

A split-second later, the vehicle quickly swerved in a tight turn, its drift allowing its tires to screech and leave a trail of burnt rubber across its path even as the trajectory formed a mean arc, before it just as instantly disappeared behind another group of debris and rubble and out of sight.

For a very long moment, Sergeant Blanche and Corporal Roger could only stare in bewilderment, as if trying to confirm to themselves that such a thing had actually happened, stunned into complete silence even as their dazed gazes refused to leave where the vehicle disappeared from sight, the distinct growl of its engine growing fainter every passing second.

"What's going on out there?" came the alarmed voice at HQ over the radio, the lieutenant colonel worried that Patrol 2-5's transmission had been suddenly cut off. "Respond!"

Blanche barely heard the demand for a response from HQ, barely remembered that the lieutenant colonel would send search teams to the area if they didn't respond, and barely had the presence of mind to click once more on her radio even as she reported in pathetically, "Uh, HQ? This is Patrol 2-5. They have a motorcycle."

* * *

**Exoria File #003  
MRX402A ULATRV (Ultra-Light All-Terrain Reconnaissance Vehicle) "Epona"**

The MRX402A ULATRV, codenamed "Epona", is the prototype (as designated by the "A" at the end of its model number) of the fourth-generation ultra-light all-terrain reconnaissance vehicle designated for eventual limited production by the Hylian armed forces. Specifically a high-powered light-armored motorcycle, only one prototype had ever been constructed for testing purposes. It possesses a 1360cc, four-stroke, four-cylinder, sixteen-valve, liquid-cooled DOHC engine, which can allow the Epona to achieve 200 horsepower and speeds up to 350 KPH (216 MPH). It also has a dual-throttle system and a six-speed close-ratio gearbox, and can make it past 97 KPH (60 MPH) in little more than two seconds with computer-assisted traction management activated. In an effort to reduce weight, the Epona carries light armor at best, lined with ultra-light C-Carbon armor that largely protect the more vital parts of the motorcycle and its rider, with the grooves on the motorcycle largely designed to minimize the effects of a potential explosion or shockwaves hitting the vehicle. One of the key features of the Epona is its relatively advanced microcomputer systems, which monitors the motorcycle electronically and assists the vehicle's stability, traction, heat, and other vital factors. More importantly, it is also equipped with frontal optic scanners, which scan the terrain ahead at a twenty-degree inclination utilizing laser and spectroimagery technology. This allows for the computer to near-instantly analyze the terrain ahead and make adjustments to the stiffness and position of the Epona's suspension systems, which allows for greater reliability when it comes to all-terrain transport, as the Epona can actively accommodate itself to new terrain ahead. Aside from the handles, the Epona can also be turned by a pressure system that receives input from the hips and legs due to the possibility of close-range bladed combat. It is also equipped with a very advanced auto-drive system and a GPS, which allows for the Epona to be called upon remotely to the rider's position without actually having a rider. Although the Epona is armed with two frontally-fixed .50 caliber machine guns with a 260 rounds per minute rate, engaging targets with more firepower than a Humvee is discouraged, as the Epona is largely a reconnaissance vehicle with limited ammunition capacity, and not meant for active offensive roles. Lightly-armored, its best defense is largely its speed and small size, although the Epona is notably much larger than modern hyper bikes. Seatbelts are not included.

* * *

Author's Note: Three chapters – or, more accurately, one prologue and two chapters – in, and I've yet to receive a review. That makes me sad, so please do review; contrary to popular belief, authors _do_ need their egos stroked sometimes.

I'd like to make a special mention of thanks to AuraNightgale and TextOnlySword for their input on _Exoria_ so far. While Text has been giving me random ideas and suggestions (even though I didn't take some of his rather sound advice in the interests of literary awesomeness), Aura has been a very dedicated proofreader (even though I didn't ask her, so even more special kudos for her). So bow before their awesomeness. The errors in the last two chapters that Aura have pointed out to me have also already been edited, so proofreading is awesome.

Chapter Two is where the story really picks up. I've spent the last two chapters trying to set things up, and it's from around here where the action starts heating up, and where you'll begin to see a somewhat familiar Zelda formula setting in. I won't explain exactly what that means, but I'm pretty certain that there's going to be a lot more to come that will catch your attention. There are a lot more mysteries to be solved and a lot more plot to be introduced, so do please stay tuned. In the meantime, please continue to read and review. If chapters had names in this story, the next one probably would've been "Motorcycle Chase Scene".


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

It was well and good that, despite the fact that the darkened metropolis of Hyrule City no longer provided the proper artificial lighting from streetlamps and building lights, the streets were wide and long. Furthermore, there were little in the way of abandoned cars; the civilians had used whatever means of transportation to get out of the city when the evacuation effort started, which meant that aside from the stray burning skeleton of a destroyed military armored vehicle, Link encountered very little obstacles as he made nearly three hundred kilometers per hour down Market Avenue.

Even as the street sped by him, he wasn't entirely sure what it was that bothered him more, the flames that burned in the distance, casting orange glows reflecting across clouds and smoke in an otherwise tranquil ebony night sky; the fact that lack of Valentine resistance here only meant more resistance further out from the capital's city center, where there would be less cover; or Zelda's arms around his stomach and chest that was squeezing and trembling so tightly as she pressed herself against his back on the motorcycle, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, that he personally found it a bit difficult to breathe.

Admittedly, however, Link wasn't terribly concerned about any of those particular factors at the moment. He had always had a fascination with all manners of vehicles and machines, and he was mostly glad that the MRX402A – he silently decided he would affectionately call it "Epona", its codename, from now – handled exceptionally well, far beyond anything he had expected. If this was what the Hylian army had been spending its research and development budget on, Link certainly wasn't about to complain. Although it – or "she", as Link decided to refer to the motorcycle using a feminine pronoun – was remarkably larger than even the most powerful of civilian hyperbikes, she was extraordinarily light for an armored military reconnaissance vehicle. He could turn the vehicle as tightly as he wished without worrying about drifting unless he wanted the motorcycle to do so, and the dual-throttle system gave him an unparalleled advantage when it came to acceleration and maintaining speed through hairpin turns. Link personally wanted to test her limits, but now was not exactly a good time, not when they were in the middle of a warzone, and especially not when there was someone scared half to death sitting behind him. The computer display at the controls impressed him too; it kept track of so many vital details of the vehicle, including temperature, remaining ammunition, durability of tires, traction, integrity, GPS readouts…and, of course, came with the usual speedometer and tachometer.

If he found anything lacking in this motorcycle, it was that she didn't possess adequate armor and weapons; even for an ultra-light all-terrain reconnaissance vehicle, or a ULATRV, Epona was ridiculously minimalist when it came to armor plating. It was well and good that the armor was, in fact, C-Carbon, a synthetic and hardened allotrope that Link knew to be extraordinarily sturdy and powerful, but the armor was molded in a way where protection was prioritized for Epona's internal components, not the rider. The large size of the vehicle certainly helped in making it difficult for attackers to get a good shot at the rider, but she possessed no actual canopy; the rider was almost as unprotected as a rider of a civilian hyperbike, which the Epona resembled more than any other military reconnaissance vehicle. She was also affixed with two fore-mounted .50 caliber machine guns, which could make good work of a humvee…but not anything larger than that. She didn't carry a great deal of ammunition either. But, again, that wasn't really a shortcoming; Epona was supposed to be a reconnaissance bike, not an infantry fighting vehicle. Anymore firepower, and Link probably should've brought a tank instead.

So the Hylian Joint Intelligence agent enjoyed what he had – which was already a great deal – and sped down the capital city of the country as a shining black blur. Link gently edged Epona off Market Avenue and onto Ocarina Street, and she fluidly responded, swerving smoothly through.

There was a roadblock in the middle of the street more than five hundred meters ahead, hastily erected with sandbags, manned by a small Valentine squad. On the left side was a humvee, while the right side was a more heavily armored infantry fighting vehicle. Although Epona's exhaust was muffled and as quiet as most reconnaissance vehicles got when throttling at three hundred plus kilometers per hour, she was still pretty loud, and the roar of the engine had already caught the attention of the roadblock before she even showed up in the sights of the roadblock. Link took a breath, counted to three…then swerved Epona to the left just as a great salvo of tracers from assault rifles, machine guns, and chain guns – angry lines of yellow and orange and red – violently sliced through the air she had been in just a moment ago. A moment later, an exhaust plume was seen in the distance; Link counted to two this time, and swerved once more, avoiding more incoming enemy fire…and dodging a wire-controlled TOW missile fired from the IFV on the right. Epona was simply too fast for the roadblock to properly get a good aim on her.

Link clicked the built-in triggers of the machine guns, the switches attached smartly to the motorcycle handles; immediately, .50 caliber rounds tore up what was essentially a stationary target, a collection of sandbags. A cloud of sand burst into the air, shielding the Valentine soldiers from Link's view but, more importantly, sending the soldiers scattering and disrupting their aim of Epona. Now there was only the humvee and the IFV to worry about, and the street was free of more than half of the tracers that had been flying across, a welcome development no matter how Link looked at it. He was already only two hundred meters and closing.

At one hundred meters, Link decided that he was going to stop playing dodgeball with the roadblock, and suddenly swerved towards the sidewalk where the roadblock couldn't adequately cover. As he edged close to the sidewalk, the cameras and optic lasers mounted at the fore of Epona quickly scanned the path ahead and registered the ten centimeter discrepancy of height between the street and the sidewalk in the form of a curb. Immediately, Link felt Epona's suspension soften in synchronization with the terrain ahead, and when Epona mounted the curb, she did so gently, smoothly climbing that ten centimeter rise. The springs had been softened to just the point where the bump of the curb felt nothing more like the pleasant swell of a sailboat on gentle waves for the two riders of Epona.

Epona shot right past the roadblock in at just under three hundred kilometers per hour. The machine gun emplacement on top of the Valentine humvee and the TOW missile turret on the IFV couldn't turn fast enough to track the black blur that was suddenly behind them. The soldiers fared little better, but by the time they had gathered their wits from having been forced from their cover, knelt down, and started firing down the street again, Epona was already zooming off, two hundred meters away and turning a sharp right – her suspensions hardening to increase stability for the turn – onto Tetra Avenue, disappearing behind a city block a split-second afterwards.

Right into another roadblock. One much closer this time, giving Link only two hundred meters to spare. And the soldiers of this roadblock had been much more prepared for Link and Zelda this time. Not only were there far more soldiers – it was a platoon this time, more than two dozen soldiers – there were three IFVs and a tank waiting for them. Link had no intention of trying his luck against this kind of firepower; he concentrated on avoiding the massive one hundred and twenty millimeter shell fired from the cannon – the massive piece of metal flying right past Epona with only meters to spare sent a strong blast of wind into his face, and Link realized just _how_ uncomfortably close the shell had been – as well as two TOW missiles from the IFVs, allowing the less powerful assault rifles rounds to ricochet off the polished C-Carbon armor.

Again, he angled Epona into a sharp turn, aiming for an alley just to the left right before they'd hit the roadblock. Epona automatically stiffened her springs as she twisted into the turn, then, just before she mounted another curb and onto the sidewalk, the suspension softened for just a split second, enough for her to make a smooth transition between street to sidewalk. As Epona landed on the sidewalk and began to slide, the springs hardened once more, allowing Epona to turn that much more smoothly, and the tires began to catch traction. Not _quite_ enough; the wheels were still skidding across the alley and into the wall after the initial slide, but, thankfully, Hylian engineering had ensured that Epona's tires were appropriately large and curved. The rounded side of the rubber tires rode on the wall for a moment, skidding against the side of the brick building as they wedged itself between road and wall, driving practically at a diagonal slant…before finally sliding down from the brick wall and back onto the ground when its sideways momentum ended, and Epona sped down the tiny gap between two buildings, the gunfire from the roadblock a thing of the past.

Link silently reminded himself to leave a thank-you-note for army R&D, if they were still alive. There was no way he could've pulled off that kind of move on a normal motorcycle or other military reconnaissance vehicle…at least, not without slamming both himself and Zelda against a rather hard brick wall.

The alley, admittedly, was a tight fit; even without factoring in the dumpsters, which Link barely managed to scrape by, the two walls on either side blazed by horrifying close to the occupants. As if it was an impossibility, Link felt the arms around his chest and stomach tighten even more, and ventured a guess that Zelda had opened her eyes…then saw that they were traveling down an alley with only a meter to spare on any given side. Chances were Zelda had them tightly shut again.

Five seconds and four hundred meters later, Epona blasted out of the alley with both its occupant holding tightly on. They weren't alone; five Humvees were quickly on their tail even as Link turned a sharp right. Judging from their speed, they had already been driving, expecting the two to be fleeing from that alley. The Valentine response was becoming more coordinated, and it was clear there was no more time to mess around.

Five sets of machine guns from the Humvees opened fire, and Link gritted his teeth even as he shifted Epona across the lanes of Oracle Boulevard, headed for the downtown area, doing his best to avoid five separate lines of fire. He shot occasional looks back to look for the best position to make it difficult for the gunners to fire, mostly by aligning the jeeps together so that the rear gunners couldn't fire in fear of hitting their comrades in front. It wasn't entirely enough; an increasing number of bullets were hitting the large metallic rear of Epona, and her computer systems were already reporting minor damage to the rear armor plating. Link hit the throttle as hard as he could; he was quite certain that the humvees couldn't match Epona's top speed, not by a long shot. As long as they stuck on large streets, the humvees had no chance of catching up, and Link would lose them quickly.

At least, that was the plan, until what sounded vaguely like a whirlwind above them increased in acoustic volume. Although Link was too busy dodging stray abandoned cars on Oracle Boulevard to spare too much of a look up, he didn't need to. Zelda, however, quickly shot a glance up and confirmed Link's fears. "Link!" she screamed over Epona's engine, "_Attack helicopters_!"

Link managed a scowl even as he finally managed to catch enough open space to take a look. Two small, two-pilot attack helicopters, sleek and black, had descended to a proper height from the skies. Despite its relatively small size – only slightly longer than a civilian helicopter – they bristled with weapons, including chain guns, missiles, and rockets. Furthermore, they were far more well-armored than any reconnaissance vehicle. Epona had no good answer for that, offensive or defensive-wise. Hovering just above the humvees, they joined the pursuit even as they flew towards Link and Zelda.

Link swiftly served to the left, and just in time; chain gun fire tore up the streets where Epona had been just a split-second before, creating miniature explosions that sent fragments of asphalt flying into the air. There was no way those bullets were simply going to bounce off Epona's armor. Link couldn't afford to let her endure that kind of firepower. As Epona straightened herself again after the turn, the attack helicopters had to slow as they rounded the metropolitan intersection, not being able to make tight high-speed turns without smashing into the side of a high-rise building. The humvees, however, did not have such a problem; all five turned and skidded through the corner, following Epona perfectly, their machine guns flashing with automatic fire shortly afterwards. The straightaway allowed Epona to increase the distance between her and her pursuers…but Link knew the attack helicopters could swiftly catch up as soon as they managed the turn.

Link didn't wait for the attack helicopters to complete the turn. He immediately decelerated again and drove down another avenue, then another, making turn after turn, each street progressively becoming narrower and narrower. Taking the smaller, windier streets meant that the attack helicopters couldn't follow unless they attempted to make high-speed turns, weaving through city blocks upholding skyscrapers. To make it even more difficult for the attack choppers to track him, Link drove Epona towards the upper-level highway, kilometers of road leading out of the city supported by a network of steel and concrete pillars holding them a dozen meters into the air. A motorcycle couldn't navigate twists and turns like a four-wheeled humvee could, however; even with Epona, Link was forced to slow, and the humvees slowly but steadily caught up.

The computer in front of Link suddenly ringed and flashed red with what seemed like an alarm. His gaze quickly shot down at the display, which had two new words flashing across the LED screen: "Radar Lock".

Link probably would've been far more impressed by the fact that Epona's computer systems could actually detect when she was locked on by enemy targeting systems had he not actually turned around and saw plumes of smoke jettison itself from an attack copter that barely made a corner in time. A near-instant later, what was very clearly a missile emerged from the smoke and streaked toward him.

A missile from an attack helicopter traveled at more than one thousand five hundred kilometers per hour, five times faster than Epona's top speed. Link harbored no delusions that Epona would be able to outrun that.

The only advantage that Link had was that it took several seconds after the thrusters of a rocket activated to actually achieve good acceleration before hitting full speed. Which meant that Link actually had _three_ seconds instead of the _two_ seconds that would've been required had the missile achieved maximum velocity the moment it was launched. One extra second was not exactly a great deal of time, but, at this point, the Joint Intelligence agent was going to take anything he could get.

He turned tightly towards the middle of the street, sticking close to the pillars holding up the bridge above that was Highway A-7 even as he ran parallel to the highway above him. The missile traveled a velocity above the speed of sound, and Link couldn't actually hear it coming. But while the missile lock-on could go through walls, the missile most certainly couldn't; it slammed itself against one of the pillars, fifteen meters away from Link and Zelda, at more than one thousand and five hundred kilometers per hour.

The high-explosive anti-tank warhead – or HEAT warhead – loaded onto the missile was meant to take out heavily-armored military vehicles; it had absolutely no problems in tearing down a pillar of steel and concrete.

The explosion pulverized the concrete and twisted the steel that had composed the pillar supporting the highway. Although the blast was reduced on Link and Zelda's side of the pillar, by no means were they completely safe from the explosion. Epona's armor was specifically designed with the appropriate curves and grooves to divert the forces of an explosion outwards and away from Epona and its rider, so both Link and Zelda remained relatively unhurt, but the explosion was still deafening enough for Link to wince – he barely managed to hear Zelda cry out in fear at the overwhelming blasts despite her being right behind him. The shockwaves also almost threw Epona through the air, and her tires lost traction, spinning out of control even as it skidded and drifted along the street.

Link had barely managed to wrestle with her controls to bring them out of the spin when he realized there was yet another problem: This section of the highway was collapsing. The support had been destroyed, and several tons of concrete and asphalt were now detaching themselves from the highway proper, crashing down on the streets beneath. Right where Link and Zelda and Epona were.

With the precision of a surgeon and the elegance of a dancer, Link _accelerated_ Epona out of her spin, choosing to use the motorcycle's high torque to allow her to spin and gain traction with the asphalt beneath her rather than stopping first. He couldn't stop, not unless he wanted to kill the speed the explosion had given Epona, which was probably the only thing that was going to save them from being crushed underneath a bridge. The tires skidded and produced smoke for a few seconds, but they eventually caught on, and Epona slowly and gently eased back into Link's control, who quickly utilized the speed from Epona's drifting to get them out of there. They were just in time; the highway finally crashed down right behind them with only meters to spare, and an explosion of dust followed in their wake – the crumbling highway crushing the street below – before Epona outran that too.

The good news was that the highway being brought down meant that the humvees, stuck on the other side, were no longer a cause of concern. The bad news was that the pair of attack helicopters were not confined to the road, and still presented a massive threat. They parted the cloud of smoke and dust as their rotors propelled them through the air, and the chase was on once again even as Link sought cover underneath the otherwise intact highway, weaving through abandoned automobiles, burning armored vehicles, and highway supports. At the earliest opportunity, as the helicopters attempted to flank him and ruin his cover, Link quickly turned onto another street, aiming to lose the helicopters in the metal-and-glass jungle of skyscrapers once more. The attack helicopters quickly angled into pursuit.

Revisiting his earlier tactic of attempting to shake the helicopters were met with limited success. While he was indeed successful in increasing the distance between him and his pursuers, Link was now troubled by the fact that it seemed the pilots were getting much more trigger happy. One helicopter continued to send a wave of chain gun bullets flying from its nose with an astounding lack of accuracy; sometimes the bullets would strike close to Link, but as the helicopter turned, the bullets would shatter glass and stone on various floors of the surrounding buildings as well. It certainly didn't make Link's escape any easier, though; he now had to worry about falling debris that might fall on them and shattered glass that might puncture Epona's tires. And then there was the other attack helicopter, also in pursuit and firing rockets from the pods on both of its two short wings. Unlike the missiles, the rockets had no tracking devices and couldn't home in on Epona, and they also carried smaller, less powerful warheads. But the attack helicopter had a liberal number of them, and the smaller rockets traveled considerably faster than their missile counterparts, not to mention they detached themselves from the rocket pods very rapidly, almost like a machine gun. The rockets were little more accurate than the chain gun bursts, but the explosions certainly were no joke; Link struggled to keep him, Zelda, and Epona out of the same street the helicopters were on, knowing that the miniature explosions that were tearing up the streets and the skyscrapers behind them in rapid succession could easily turn all of them into paste – smeared across the street – should they be on the receiving end of a direct hit…or maybe even an indirect hit.

Link quickly consulted Epona's GPS, tried to find something that could work to his advantage. A few seconds later, believing he had something worthy of attempting, he skipped two chances to make a right turn, allowing the two helicopters to barely catch up…then took a sharp ninety-degree right onto yet another street. The pilots in the two helicopters, tracking Epona's movements, quickly leveled their altitude, making sure they were at optimal weapons range – flying low enough – to hit the Hylian fourth-generation reconnaissance vehicle on the next turn. The two helicopters, too, flew past two streets before, on the third, banking right.

And realized that the third street _wasn't_ a street at all.

When the Squaretech Corporation built their "branch office" in Hyrule City, they requisitioned two entire city blocks for their HQ, their building plans pronouncing the need to build right over Parker Lane right between these two blocks and turn the two into one single city block. The Senate, eager to appease Squaretech at the time, signed off on the requisition…which drew the ire of drivers cruising in downtown Hyrule City when the lack of Parker Lane caused traffic congestion in the surrounding one-way streets. Some negotiations later, Squaretech finally reached a compromise; the building plans were slightly altered so that the middle section, the part that was built over what was once Parker Lane, would be decreased in size so that a public underground tunnel could be built right under the building to allow for cars to drive right through.

The pilots were not locals to Hyrule City, and knew not of this. Before they turned, the Squaretech Hyrule City Branch Office looked only like two skyscrapers adjacent to each other with a street in between them. When the helicopters made the turn and accelerated, however, they suddenly realized that Epona has simply gone right under the building as the street ramped down into the tunnel…and now there was a giant wall of steel and glass right in front of them.

The helicopter in the rear had more room for correction as the pilot pulled back on the yoke, bringing the attack helicopter into an upwards swing and away from the glass. The first helicopter, however, was not so lucky. It attempted to turn back…but it had been traveling too fast, and the turn wasn't quite enough. The rotors struck glass and steel, cutting violently through steel and glass even as the rotors bent and twisted and sent the helicopter on a chaotic tumble, beginning to spin out of control as the pilots inside that attack helicopter struggled to maintain altitude and control of their now-smoking aircraft.

Link did not slow down or look back to see whether or not the attack helicopter would crash; he was simply quite glad that he got them off his back. He drove right on through the short tunnel, and, a second later, reemerged on the other side, shooting up the ramp as Epona's suspensions softened and allowed her to smoothly land right back on the streets without too high a jump. He swiftly guided Epona back towards the larger streets; now that they lost the attack helicopters, they needed more speed, the kind of speed that large wide streets could offer them…plus those roads led back to Highway A-7, which led south out of the city and towards the Hylian-Gerudo border. He needed to get back there to complete their escape.

"Humvees are back," Princess Zelda suddenly called out from behind him. Her voice was raised, having to shout above the noises that were screaming right past them at high speeds, but her tone suggested she was much calmer this time. Then again, it wasn't entirely unexpected; they had run into two roadblocks, been pursued by five humvees, been shot at by attack helicopters…personally, Link would've felt anyone would've preferred being chased by humvees rather than missile-carrying attack helicopters. He turned his head just enough to catch the silhouette of five humvees right behind him, and accelerated in his attempt to lose them in the dust even as tracers flew through the streets once more, dividing the road with angry lines of light.

Except, as soon as his head turned back towards the front, he immediately saw another five humvees veer right onto the street in front of him; he was now surrounded by ten humvees traveling at high speeds.

The Valentine jeeps stopped firing in fear of hitting each other with intersecting lines of machine gun bullets, but Link knew the inevitable result if he didn't do something: The longer he lingered, the more likely that the humvees were going to box him in, and that would be the end of that. The highway supports of Highway A-7 right above them did not help Link's situation at all, giving him more obstacles to avoid and less angles to maneuver. He decided to take the less conventional option: He swerved left…and right into the National Mall, a tree-laden national park two kilometers in length running alongside the downtown section of Highway A-7.

The humvees doggedly followed Link into the Mall, and, immediately, the drivers began a dangerous game of tree-dodging. Link couldn't quite achieve good speed with Epona on these kind of grounds, not when he was turning left and right in an effort to avoid crashing into trees and benches and fences, but he still fared better in terms of traversing the uneven terrain compared to the humvees that barely managed to keep themselves accelerating and moving at the same time. The Valentine pursuers were no longer very aversive towards being trigger happy, however; machine gun fire erupted from all asides, and Link pressed himself low against the body of Epona, relying on the trees for cover as he tried to ride as close to the trees as possible, to the point where he was pulling off near-misses or even scraping the trees, in an attempt to attain a sufficient form of cover. It seemed to be working; a few rounds still struck and ricocheted off Epona's C-Carbon armor, but many more rounds were striking the trees around them, and Link became that much more concerned about the splinters that were being launched into the air as bullets peppered the trees around them and sent scraps of bark flying around.

Link knew he wouldn't last like this. His tactic was a delaying tactic more than anything, but now he was stuck in the middle of far too many trees and intersecting lines of fire. He wasn't outrunning the humvees fast enough. The situation was that much deadlier on the streets, but things were still dangerous, even with the cover. He needed to get to the highway, away from the humvees, but the next ramp, Link knew, was at least two more kilometers away…and he wasn't looking forward to two more kilometers of dodging machine gun fire from ten different directions.

Drastic measures needed to be taken. Link edged Epona towards the highway once more, carefully keeping track of his environment…or, more specifically, the path in front of him. Even more specifically, the trees; there were some that were actually quite tall and sturdy redwood trees. He deliberately slowed down a bit, kept his eyes open, looked for a tree that was distant enough. The damage to the National Mall clearly showed that there had been serious fighting here, enough for explosive ordinance to be used; several of the trees were already in splinters before they had gotten here.

A bit more than two hundred meters ahead of them, Link saw one. A rather thick tree that had been damaged at the base by what was probably a tank shell, and was already tilting away from where Link and Zelda were coming from, towards the highway on the right. Link aimed Epona's nose at the tree and fired her two machine guns at the base; splinters flew from that tree as the base was slowly eaten away by the rain of bullets, and it slowly began to bend even further away from Epona and toward the highway above. Hoping that the tree was at an inclination just enough for his purposes, Link aimed Epona directly for that tree.

Link silently gritted his teeth; this was a _really_ stupid idea.

Zelda agreed; she had kept her eyes open and saw what Link was turning towards. "No," she whispered in a voice laced completely with fear, which rapidly developed to a scream. "No, no, _no_…!"

Link ignored her, stood up on the motorcycle even as he increased the throttle to achieve as much speed as he possibly could…and slammed his feet down on the rear supports of the motorcycle. Epona continued to ride forward even as the Link's movement forced the weight of the motorcycle to shift back, and Epona did a little jump as her front tires left the ground and came up into the air. Zelda's scream became even more pronounced as she hung onto her dear life, clutching at Link so tightly that he became very sure that he _couldn't_ breathe. He really couldn't blame her; the ground was now flying right past her no more than a meter behind Zelda, now that Epona's nose was angled upwards.

The bending tree was only meters away from Epona when Link finally shifted his weight back forward – slightly difficult, as Zelda, light as she was, was still grabbing quite tightly onto him – and the Epona's front wheel, having been raised to the air came right back down onto the diagonal tree trunk. Her suspensions immediately slackened, dampening the bump, and this worked in Link's favor even as Link's rear wheel, being pulled along by the power of the front tires, mounted the tree trunk too. Link now found himself riding along the side of a fifteen-meter-tall eucalyptus tree, bending increasingly towards the highway, effectively utilizing the tree as what was probably the world's thinnest motorcycle ramp.

Link didn't need to be reminded of how badly this could go wrong. The tree might snap and completely collapse, ending the attempt to go airborne; the tree trunk was thick, but Link honestly wasn't sure if it was thick _enough_ to handle the weight of Epona, Link, and Zelda. They were riding upwards with little-to-no cover; the gunners in the humvee had a clear shot as Link gained altitude. And the most obvious problem was balance; tree trunks did not offer the best of traction, were rounded, and guardrails did not protect them from tipping over to any side. Not to mention that the impromptu ramp was only about eighty centimeters in width…only several centimeters wider than Epona's tires themselves. There was an extremely low error margin.

Miraculously, the tree trunk held; the accumulated weight of motorcycle and her drivers caused it to curve even more, and the sinking feeling sent a sudden rush of fear to Link as he assumed the worst and thought they weren't going to make it, but the tree trunk ultimately did not snap. The Valentine gunners in their humvees, in the meantime, were stunned into a momentary lapse; their reaction to this move was effectively the same as Link's own reaction to his own move, that of assumed stupidity and insanity. And balance was barely maintained; Epona was light enough for Link to maintain equilibrium, and its wheels remained stubbornly glued to the side of the bending tree.

Achieving an altitude of ten meters, Epona reached the tip of the tree, the edge of the ramp, the end of the road…and proceeded to shoot up into the air, barely achieving an altitude of fourteen meters at the top of its arc…

…And barely made it over the guardrail of Highway A-7, the tires bumping against the guardrail once before, with a thump that even Epona's suspensions could not completely negate, landed on the asphalt of the upper-level Highway A-7.

Link personally did not care about the fact that he was still unable to breathe, as tightly as Zelda was squeezing him. He did not care that Epona was, once again, spinning as it fought to gain traction after the transition from grass to tree bark to air to asphalt. He was simply relieved; the humvees, left twelve meters below and without a ramp to get onto the highway themselves, were no longer a concern.

Trying to exhale despite the tremendous pressure across his chest and stomach, Link fought down the urge to whistle, a motion that succeeded largely because he couldn't inhale and was actually rather shaken by their success; the Hylian army's research and development team _really_ wasn't kidding when they called this an "all-terrain" vehicle. If there had been another cyclist that had been as foolhardy to have attempted what Link just accomplished, he would really like to meet the person. In the meantime, he accelerated Epona out of her spin once more, and quickly achieved two hundred kilometers per hour as he continued down the highway. At this speed, the humvees had absolutely no hope of catching up.

Not that there wasn't a new worry; as soon as Link passed a highway ramp on the right side, newcomers joined him via said ramp onto Highway A-7. His head snapped back as he quickly saw three new pursuers quickly matching his speed as they drove up from the streets below, obviously part of the coordinated pursuit efforts. Each of the three vehicles carried an armed Valentine scout…and it was clear they were quite accustomed to these types of high-speed pursuits.

Hyrule wasn't the only country building reconnaissance motorcycles.

Four motorcycles shot through the derelict highways, quickly gaining even more speed as they the edged closer to three hundred kilometers per hour. Link deliberately slowed to keep Epona close to the three pursuing Valentine scout bikes; as a fourth-generation reconnaissance vehicle, she possessed a higher top speed than the third-generation motorcycles her pursuers were riding on…but that advantage was marginal, and couldn't make anything decisive. Even worse, it would place Epona right in range of three sets of fore-mounted machine guns on the Valentine motorcycles. Keeping close to their pursuers meant that he gave the Valentine scouts no chance to use their machine guns. Furthermore, the scouts didn't draw their handheld weapons and fire at Link; traveling at this speed while swerving left and right on motorcycles made it tremendously easy for friendly fire if they decided to start going trigger-happy on intersecting paths.

This called for another approach.

Link quickly released Zelda's arms around him – a difficult task, as Zelda was extremely unwilling to relinquish her hold – and instead diverted her grip onto the metallic frame of Epona instead; she squeezed the motorcycle and refused to let go. For the first time in fifteen seconds, Link finally took a breath, and felt a wave of slight nausea hit his head as oxygen began returning to his brain. The feeling lasted only for a moment, however, as he reached into his jacket and quickly drew his gunsword even as he swiftly swerved towards one of the pursuing motorcycles. The reason he needed Zelda to let go of his stomach was because he needed mobility for his body. The use of firearms at this speed while vehicles swerved left and right across each other and stray cars on the highway was going to have diminished effect, what with the detriments against accuracy. Link needed to close the distance and solve that accuracy problem.

With the flick of a button and his wrist, Link quickly changed his gunsword into longsword mode. His target had very little time to react; Link had already closed the distance between the two vehicles as Epona slipped in right beside the motorcycle, and, with perfect timing, Link swung his sword at the rider. The blade caught, slashing through the light bulletproof armor the scout was wearing, and Link watched in silent satisfaction as the scout tumbled off his motorcycle and onto the highway, violently skidding and spinning across the asphalt before sprawling motionless on the ground; his motorcycle, riderless, soon met the same fate.

Link's satisfaction was short-lived; as he turned his attention to the other Valentine soldiers, he suddenly realized that both of them had also closed in on him…also equipped with gunswords in longsword mode in their hands that they had swiftly drawn from their holsters.

These soldiers weren't just scouts. They were Valentine special forces, the only soldiers on the continent that carried gunswords as a standard weapon.

The battle quickly became chaotic as the motorcycles slipped left and right between lanes, weaving through each other and the occasional obstacle across the highway, riding in intersecting lines as their swords slashed and clashed with every pass they made with each other. Link was reminded of medieval duels on horseback, where riders would engage in fast-paced melee combat even as their mounts galloped across the fields. He couldn't help but make that mental comparison now even as he and his opponents engaged in a high-speed swordfight on motorcycles across the highway. Both scouts were also very proficient with handling their own gunswords; Link couldn't make their swordfight decisive even as slashes and thrusts were being parried and blocked, and he was, in fact, fighting at a disadvantage. It didn't help that his maneuverability advantage was cut down by the weight of an extra passenger.

Although he was outnumbered by one, Link still possessed a single advantage that he hadn't used yet. He had noticed it earlier, but Epona seemed to possess an experimental set of controls at the seat of the motorcycle. After a few very minor experiments with it while riding across the battlefield of Hyrule City, Link became very certain that Epona actually possessed a hip-controlled steering system, meaning she could actually be steered without hands on the handlebars. Link had been hesitant to use that, however, not when he was not entirely sure just how sensitive the hip-based controls were, and not when he wasn't sure what that would do against the balance of the motorcycle. At the moment, however, he was very much inclined to take advantage of it so he could wield the gunsword with a double-handed grip for more power and more options. Their Valentine pursuers, riding standard third-generation motorcycles, could only fight with one hand, the other hand maintaining a hold on the handlebars of their vehicles in the absence of an extra set of controls.

He had little time to think about this. The two Valentine scouts were now moving in a flanking formation, one on either side. Both had their swords angled precariously forward even as they charged at Link from both sides, clearly aiming to impale him from two different directions. As if Link was going to let that happen; he quickly hit the brakes, hoping that the Valentine motorcycles would run into each other instead. It didn't happen; both motorcycles calmly but swiftly passed right by each other through where Epona had been before with only centimeters to spare. Undoubtedly, they had trained enough in this maneuver to not do something as stupid as run into each other in a pincer attack. Link had no intention of giving the two scouts a stationary target to shoot at; he quickly accelerated once more as soon as the two motorcycles had cleared each other, shooting down the highway again. The scouts spun their vehicles around in unison and began pursuit once more. Link made sure to match the speed of his pursuers to ensure he was not right in front of their machine guns.

Again, one of the riders on the right quickly moved up, preparing to slash at Link once more; the left scout had to peel off to avoid a stationary truck in front. With the threat from his left diminished, Link figured this was the best place to test just how well he could handle this new feature. Rather than allowing the scout to come towards him, Link immediately placed his gunsword in a powerful two-handed grip, then, letting go of the handles, twisted his hip clockwise. Epona responded like a charm; she shifted right just a bit further to the right than Link had expected, but still within acceptable margins. Having seen Link let go of the bars of his vehicle, the special forces scout did not expect Link suddenly barreling towards her from the side, nor did she expect Link to be holding his gunsword in both hands. She barely managed to bring her own blade up just in time for the parry, but was forced to give ground and bend outwards as Link overwhelmed her block with brute strength, leaning forward with his two-handed blow and the force of Epona pushing the scout increasingly towards the right guardrail.

The scout did what anyone would do when overpowered, and gave ground, quickly using her free hand to turn instinctively away from Link, hoping to increase the distance between them. Link did not let her, his hip twisted furthermore to the right, and Epona quickly and violently shoved the scout's motorcycle into the concrete guardrail. The scout wasn't sure whether she should try to push back or pull away even further, and the indecision cost her; sparks flew as the motorcycle's metal slammed into the concrete barrier, and the motorcycle was sent on a chaotic tumble as it lost traction with the ground at the sudden application of force. It crashed onto the ground with the rider, and she, too, was out of the equation. Link quickly turned his attention to the last remaining threat…

…Who, having been unnoticed for the past few seconds, had sufficiently angled his motorcycle into a prime attack position right behind Link, and the barrels of his machine guns blazed with automatic gunfire.

Link quickly swerved left and right, avoiding the bolts of light that were flying past Epona. He thanked the fact that it was that much harder to hit a moving target from fixed machine guns on a motorcycle, but he would've kept his fingers crossed had he been able to anyways, attempting to dodge gunfire while threading through civilian cars having been left behind during the evacuation, which only seemed to increase in number and density as the two motorbikes continued on. What was otherwise scattered cars quickly became an outright traffic jam as abandoned cars occupied all lanes, forcing both motorcycles to the shoulder emergency lane dangerously close to the guardrail. Link scowled at the development; there was no avoiding gunfire this way, and now the Valentine scout was pounding Epona's rear armor with a hail of machine gun bullets. An alarm on Epona's computer shrilled, alerting Link that her rear armor plates were beginning to be seriously compromised.

Five hundred meters ahead, Link quickly saw why traffic had been congested here. A black wall of asphalt blocked off the road ahead, and a quick recollection of the local road map reminded Link that it wasn't a wall at all, but the Reynolds Drawbridge, which crossed over the Dalton River. When the rest of Highway A-7 was being reconstructed to fit modern standards, the Reynolds Drawbridge had been exempt from the renovation process, being protected by its status as a national heritage site. An appeal to lift that status failed, despite the fact that the drawbridge was far too low for modern standards and unnecessarily congested traffic on a highway when drawn. The bridge, apparently, had been drawn upwards, yet whoever was supposed to lower it back down clearly did not…probably because he had been too busy running away. Realizing that the bridge wasn't going to be coming down anytime soon, evacuating civilians must've abandoned their chances on Highway A-7 and found other means of escape as they fled from their cars.

After this, Link supposed, there wouldn't be any opposition for lifting the Reynolds Drawbridge's national heritage site status. Admittedly, however, he wasn't terribly concerned right now. All he did was press harder on the accelerator, and Epona leapt forward faster than before.

Zelda ventured a peek forward; she undoubtedly saw what was up ahead and knew what Link was about to do, but, surprisingly, she did not scream in fear or protest. Despite this, Link was relatively certain that he heard what sounded suspiciously like a distressed moan even as her already light skin turned an even sicklier shade of pale.

Epona covered five hundred meters in about six seconds. The motorcycle ran into resistance even as its suspensions softened to take the brunt of the impact against the raised drawbridge. Still, the pressure was notably harder than anything they had felt before; the bridge was drawn up at a forty-five degree angle, and there was a limit as to how much shock the suspensions could absorb. There was also a limit as to how well a motorcycle could travel up a forty-five degree ramp…but, thankfully, Epona's speed was just enough to make it up while still maintaining a bit more than one hundred kilometers per hour when it finally made it to the end of the road and soared right off it.

Princess Zelda started screaming in terror at that point.

The last pursuing scout attempted to follow Link and Zelda up the bridge, but his motorcycle did not benefit from the same kind of advanced suspensions as Epona did. The vast majority of the motorcycle's speed was utterly diminished as soon as its front tires first hit the raised bridge, and although it still maintained enough speed to reach the top of the ramp, the scout knew full well that his motorcycle could not possibly make the jump to the other side, and instead hit the brakes, allowing his vehicle to slide back down onto level road instead and call off his pursuit.

As for Epona, she sailed through the air with nothing but water two dozen meters below…until, after achieving an airborne distance of around twelve meters, Link finally came back down onto the _other_ side of the drawbridge, swiftly compensating as he tilted Epona just enough to match the angle of the ramp's downward slant. The motorcycle slid on asphalt only for a bit, leaving dark tracks of burnt rubber in its wake, before she managed to catch a straight line once more and neatly ran right down the ramp and back onto the now unpopulated Highway A-7.

Link felt a rush of triumph run through his head even as Epona continued to bolt southbound along the highway and towards their destination. Against what were simply impossible odds, he had still managed to run right through Valentine forces stationed in the city and pursuit parties sent after him. Now, they were completely home free.

At least, until a rather unwelcome sound filled Link's ears, and, in dismay, he looked upwards to find an all-too-familiar attack helicopter flying in from above and behind. Their former and deadliest pursuer, the one that had not crashed against the Squaretech skyscraper, was back and had finally caught up.

A swift analysis of the situation highlighted just how hopeless Link's predicament was. His .50 caliber machine guns could probably do no more than dent the attack helicopter. He was caught on a highway with no exit ramp close enough, no cover, and with wide open roads. A missile or rocket he couldn't outrun or dodge would completely destroy him and Zelda. And Epona, even at top speed, only had a marginal speed advantage over the attack helicopter, meaning there was no way Epona could lose it.

Having no other choice, Link did the only thing he could do at this point. He swiftly secured Zelda's arms around himself once more, then hit the brakes just lightly enough for Epona to begin a drift and a controlled spin, achieving a one-eighty while maintaining the same course, then, as soon as the half-spin was completed, he continued to ride on in the same direction…in reverse.

And prayed that the attack helicopter would use the larger, slower, and more powerful missile instead of a rocket.

Link didn't bother to look back even as he drove Epona backwards or address the look of confusion on Zelda's face. Rather, he kept his eyes solely fixed on the attack helicopter that was following tightly at only one hundred and twenty meters away. Epona could not properly accelerate in reverse, and its speed began to drop, but that was quiet fine; it was not speed Link was looking for. Rather, he held his breath, willing his reflexes to be at their sharpest apex, intently watching the helicopter's every move even as it descended to a slightly lower altitude to achieve a prime attack angle.

His prayer for a missile over any other weapon was simple: With all of the attack helicopter's ordinance being able to travel past the speed of sound, Link desperately needed a warning.

And, as if divine will had been behind this battle, his hopes were answered. Epona's computer display again fired off a shrill warning, the words "Radar Lock" appearing in blaring red on the LED screen, indicating that the attack helicopter's targeting systems had acquired a lock on Epona, and the missile it would fire in three seconds would steer itself right into her no matter how fast she moved. As soon as the alarm went off, Link counted to two…then, as soon as the count was over, hit Epona's rear brakes as hard as he possibly could.

Epona had been traveling at just the right speed, neither too fast nor too slow, for Link to pull this off. The front half of Epona shot right up as the rear tires locked, sending her momentum forward and up, effectively performing a wheelie. Again, Zelda held onto Link tightly, realizing that she was in danger of falling backward onto the ground again. Epona had not been traveling fast enough for her to flip over backwards and dump Link and Zelda unceremoniously onto the ground, but she had been just fast enough for its nose – and machine guns – to point directly at the attack helicopter. The momentum died as soon as Epona achieved that angle, and it remained suspended in mid-air at that position for a split-second.

At the same split-second, the attack helicopter's right missile pod flared with a bright light as it was fired, the thrusters activating and creating a brilliant flash, and Link's reflexes were pushed to the limit…just enough for him to react within that same split-second as he shifted his weight to the left and pulled on the trigger for his machine guns.

It took just a bit more than half a second. The launched missile had left the attack helicopter's right hardpoint and was developing enough of a speed to streak unchallenged towards Epona. Its initial burn allowed it to travel only twenty-five meters from the wing it had detached from – a scant fifteen meters away from the nose of the attack helicopter – when the third bullet from Epona's machine guns accomplished what its two predecessors had failed to do, and instead of streaking right past the missile, that third round struck the warhead of the incoming weapon.

From one hundred meters away, the explosion from the missile's HEAT warhead felt overwhelming, especially since neither Link nor Zelda benefitted from the protection of a canopy, both of them fully exposed to the distant shockwave. From fifteen meters away, however, the instantly-expanding cloud of fire was lethal; the blast tore right through the helicopter's rotor and cockpit, vaporizing them in a miniature sun, and, in flames, the aircraft simply crashed down onto the highway as a burning wreck.

The impact reverberated through the highway, and, half-convinced that it would eventually roll onto them or bring another section of the highway crashing down, Link brought the front wheel of Epona back down and quickly backed up even further to a safer distance. The corpse of the attack helicopter neither crashed towards Link and Zelda, nor did the highway fall apart, but it had been prudent of Link to back up; flaming pieces of debris and scrap metal flew into the air, spilling across a lengthy radius before they landed, bounced, and stopped on various surfaces.

Sliding Epona to a halt, Link breathed heavily even as he cast another look at the burning wreckage of what remained of the attack helicopter, ensuring that no danger was going to come out of it. When nothing surfaced from the wreckage, nothing that would indicate any sign of pursuers, Link and Zelda exchanged a tired look, both of them bordering on a smile of mingled relief.

What sounded like a rumble interrupted their brief interval of peace.

Both Link and Zelda snapped their gazes to the left side of the highway towards the east. They couldn't see anything there, not with the darkness having fallen upon them, but neither of them couldn't help but hear what was definitely the sound of successive impacts of large objects growing in volume, headed their way. It was the sound of an approaching giant. Neither of them had actually ever heard of such a sound in their life, but there was no mistaking what the sound meant: Trouble.

Link did not wait to find out what the sound was. Ensuring that Zelda was securely holding onto him, he quickly turned Epona around and accelerated, speeding down the highway once more, even as the sounds came increasingly closer.

It did not take long for Link and Zelda to finally see what was causing the sound.

It happened suddenly. What seemed like a metallic pillar – Link thought it was a stray telephone pole at first – suddenly rose up from beside the highway and came crashing down end-first on the upper-level road with crushing force. Link quickly twisted Epona away from the point of impact, swerving around the pillar even as he willed for Epona to shoot faster down Highway A-7. He was just in time; part of the highway cracked and tumbled away down to the road down below behind them.

Then the pillar rose up once again, followed the motorcycle…and Link suddenly realized that it wasn't a pillar at all, but a _leg_. Looking back in bewilderment, he saw that, on the left side of the hallway, a large metallic sphere was suddenly visible, traveling right beside the motorcycle, barely matching Epona's speed. The sphere was definitely at least twenty meters in diameter, a smooth congregation of what was most likely hardened battle armor found on vehicles such as tanks. Connected to it were four powerful beams, each complemented with a large piston-like component, that kept the spherical main body attached to its four heavily-armored, metallic legs, powered by sturdy hydraulic devices. The main body bristled with weapons, from rocket ports to chain guns to missile pods.

Link and Zelda couldn't help but stare at this monster walker that reminded both of them of a spider. Neither of them had ever seen anything like this before, not an armored fighting vehicle with _legs_ that seemed like it was pulled right out of a science fiction movie with too high a special effects budget, towering over the landscape as it stood at twenty meters tall, matching a seven-story building in height. Yet even as what seemed like a glowing, swiveling camera ran around its spherical circumference, centering its sights on the motorcycle they rode on, neither agent nor princess had any doubts as to what they had to do: Run.

A ramp came up on the right side, leading back down to the road on the lower level; Link knew he needed the cover, and quickly sped down the ramp…just as three separate sets of chain guns suddenly began to spin and, seconds afterwards, fired. Link did not clear the ramp in time to seek cover from behind the concrete guardrail, and all around him, his world suddenly exploded.

It was as if he was suddenly caught in the epicenter of a violent earthquake, and the ground suddenly cracked and buckled and shattered everywhere around him. Zelda did not scream, but her arms squeezed against Link, seeking protection from what seemed like a suddenly omnipresent hail of tracer rounds that came down from everywhere. Link was sure that it was the end of everything, that there was no hope left…until, miraculously, he finally cleared the ramp, and disappeared from outside the line of sight of the walker.

It was not until he gasped for air that Link realized that he had been holding his breath. He had been certain that he couldn't have made it…but apparently, the chain guns were designed to fill the air with gunfire instead of actually hitting a specific target. The highway around him had been completely riddled with what was probably hundreds, if not thousands, of bullets, but he himself had been fine. It was, he admitted, a very fine stroke of luck in what was a long succession of lucky events…and Link knew he was already pressing it; that kind of luck was not going to last.

There was an advantage of riding under the highway again; the armored walker was too large to be able to properly fire under the bridge to hit Epona. Link mentally compared himself to a mouse burrowing under something to evade the claws of an eagle, utilizing the highway as cover to protect Zelda, Epona, and himself. It most certainly didn't stop the walker from trying, however; a rapid chain of explosions right behind him was enough to tell him – even without looking – that the walker was rapidly firing rocket after rocket under the highway in an attempt to hit them. The shockwaves were not as powerful as the ones from missiles…but they were still powerful, and Link was hard-fought in his struggle to prevent the blasts from knocking Epona off its wheels even as it sped along, already reaching the edge of the Hyrule City Metropolitan Area. The walker barely managed to keep up, largely by virtue of its large size and the distance of the stride of its long, massive legs. A storm of fire divided the two vehicles even as the rockets blasted the road right behind Epona, incinerating everything in flames, and twisting and bending the highway supports even as the highway sections collapsed one by one behind Link, and the agent was once more concerned about the possibility that he might not actually be killed by the enemy, but crushed by a falling bridge.

Link eyed his GPS readout. Two kilometers ahead, the highway lowered itself back onto the ground as it completely left the Hyrule City Metropolitan Area, and, eight hundred meters after that, the highway entered a five-kilometer long tunnel under a patch of rolling hills that would end in the lonely outskirts of the city. If they could get there, if Epona could last until getting to that wide open expanse beyond the reaches of Hyrule City, then they had a much greater chance of escaping, with the odds even greater if there were no Valentine units posted in or within the tunnel. If anything else, it meant the walker wasn't able to pursue them anymore. At the moment, Link wanted nothing more than to be able to stay away from the mechanical spider with more ammunition than five attack helicopters combined. Never mind tanks he could outrun, motorcycles he could outmaneuver, and attack helicopters he could outwit; he had absolutely no answer for this enemy.

A flash and a cacophony of what sounded like a combination of cannons and gunfire sent another spike of adrenaline through Link's system, and his eyes shot towards the direction of the flash even as the highway began to lower and came to an end. At first, Link assumed that Valentine reinforcements had caught up, and had established a roadblock to the front, intent on cutting Epona off. However, as the tracers flew nowhere near him and struck the walker instead, Link squinted…and realized that up ahead, right in front of where the highway finally came back down to the ground, a group of Hylian military units, three tanks along with what was a platoon of Hylian soldiers, were holding down the position right between Highway A-7 and the tunnel in what was probably one of the last pockets of Hylian resistance in the area. Link felt a surge of excitement, not only because there was now supporting fire coming from a battlegroup much more well-armed than him, but because a Hylian roadblock there meant one other thing: The Valentine military had yet to hold control over this tunnel which the Hylians were defending.

Taking advantage of this distraction, Link swerved out from under the highway right before it joined the road, turning right as he began to make the last eight hundred meters until the tunnel. They sped right past the Hylian roadblock, shooting right past the tank on the right, and the soldiers thankfully did not give them any resistance or fire towards them. Either the soldiers were aware that the motorcycle was one of theirs…or, more likely, they decided that a twenty-meter-tall walking battle tank was much more of an opportune target than a reconnaissance motorcycle. Regardless, Epona shot right past them unfettered.

Plumes of smoke suddenly erupted from the top of the walker's spherical main body, and two dozen contrails of white gas shot right into the sky. Top-attack missiles were launched into the air, rocketing up into the air until they swiftly turned to a ninety-degree angle, streaking to the air above the roadblock and the tunnel, then, as soon as they reached a position right above the roads stretch from the roadblock to the tunnel, they sharply made another ninety-degree turn, shooting downwards towards the roadblock and towards Epona. Top-attack missiles were designed to fire at armored vehicles so that the warhead could be delivered from above, exploiting the fact that armored vehicles usually had thinner armor at the top.

Sparing a look back, Link watched even as the first cluster of missiles struck the roadblock, and the explosion immediately swallowed everyone and everything there whole, the tanks and soldiers completely disappearing behind great balls of fire. Then more missiles impacts engulfed the road between Link and the roadblock, and he couldn't see the area at all. He wasn't out of danger yet; at least a dozen of the remaining missiles were still traveling towards him at breakneck speeds. This was going to be close. Again.

Epona had barely made it right into the tunnel, the vehicle passing right under the rim of the tunnel's roof, when the first missiles hit, striking the street right behind them. Far enough to not force Epona into a slide, but close enough for Link to know that the missiles were getting far too close. But as Epona slipped further into the subterranean street, the remaining missiles, still tracking Epona's electronic signature, blasted themselves against the hill where the entrance of the tunnel was based. The explosions immediately pulverized tons of dirt and stone and concrete, and the tunnel entrance crumbled, crashed, and collapsed behind Link and Zelda, threatening to swallow them under the avalanche of debris.

But it didn't. Epona had gone fast enough to be completely out of range of explosion, and the collapsed tunnel entrance, a thick wall of ruined tunnel and hill, had all but secured their escape. The tunnel went silent. Epona rode on. Link and Zelda had made it.

It was at this point that Link moreorless jokingly told himself, if only as a means of self-relieving his stress, that if only Epona could cook, he'd probably marry her.

* * *

Princess Zelda refused to talk to Agent Link for the next several hours, and did not speak until they had finally reached a gas station at the early hours of dawn, when the sky began to turn from a dark ebony to a lighter shade of navy and purple.

Link honestly was not sure why Zelda didn't speak. Although he didn't initiate conversation – it was not in his nature to – he could venture a few possible guesses why. Perhaps she needed to get the shock out of her system and was in no mood to talk. Maybe she had finally fallen asleep with the fatigue, and was merely resting. Maybe she was infuriated that Link had dragged her through a motorcycle ride through hell, and decided she would loathe him for the rest of her life.

Personally, though, Link wasn't sure he minded the reason; with Zelda's heart beating stably against his back as she gently held onto him from behind for the remainder of the ride, the Joint Intelligence agent was just greatly relieved that Zelda – and himself, for that matter – had managed to escape Hyrule City safely.

Highway A-7 South led through a patch of rolling hills and plains making up the Greater Hyrule Field. A patchwork of green and brown, the area was hardly lush and rich in vegetation, but Link honestly didn't mind that terribly. It meant that the highway provided a smooth trip out, and the entire road from their escape of Hyrule City to the gas station was surprisingly empty. The moonlight lit up the road for them, so Link didn't have to turn on Epona's headlights. Eventually, they left the power grid of Hyrule City, and the streetlights beyond that were still on, so Link turned the headlights off. He wasn't terribly interested in revealing their location with a conspicuous set of headlights, and he took great pains in avoiding the Valentine roadblocks set up. Apparently, the offensive effort had gone further into Hylian territory than Link had expected, and he was careful not to make himself and Zelda a target once more.

They had not been pursued. Valentine forces were persistent, but no military force was going to allocate a pursuit force after a single military reconnaissance motorcycle, especially not when they weren't sure who was actually on it.

In hindsight, developed over the hours that Link had to himself, the agent realized that he had been extraordinarily lucky, and he was not likely to ever run into such a chain of fortune again. Everything had gone in his favor; the Haven's armory had been untouched, he had been able to take Epona, he had repeatedly pulled off stunts that defied the basics of logic and common sense, he had encountered surprisingly thin resistance, and his timing and aim had been miraculously spot-on. This was not going to be something he was going to attribute to his skills; they did factor in – somewhere – but Link did not deny that he had simply been utterly fortunate that the wheel of fate had spun in his favor.

When he finally pulled Epona into the gas station, Link first noted that the establishment was completely devoid of life. He was sure to make a quick sweep around the area with his gunsword, ensuring that the place truly was lifeless and there wasn't an ambush waiting for them there, before he finally returned and pulled Epona up to the gas station in what he felt was effectively the middle of nowhere, no sign of civilization of life in sight. At that point, after traveling nonstop for almost seven hours straight, she was already three-quarters empty. When Link detached Zelda's arms for himself – although he wasn't entirely sure if the crown princess was actually conscious, she certainly hung onto him tightly enough – she finally seemed to rouse, or at least make gestures of consciousness, and sat up straight instead of leaning against Link. She looked completely exhausted even as she tiredly rubbed her eyes, but, for the most part, she seemed alright.

Zelda remained sitting and unmoving where she sat on the motorcycle for the duration of Link refueling Epona, and she remained the same way when Link went into the gas station's convenience store to find something to eat and drink – the door was unlocked and askew, meaning whoever had owned the gas station must've been quick to flee when the area became a warzone – until Link finally came out with a plastic bag of chocolate chip cookies and two bottles of orange juice. The sugar would help combat the shock, but he didn't actually tell Zelda that as he handed her the bottle, which she took with slightly shaky and weak hands. Watching the princess wrestle against the plastic twist-cap of the bottle with her frail and exhausted hands was a rather painful-looking process, however, so Link ended up gently taking the bottle and opening it for her.

It was only after Zelda took a rather long swig of orange juice from the bottle – rather un-princess-like of her – before she finally spoke, and she did so in a tired, almost choked and raspy voice. "Do you think I had been too harsh on Director Leonore?" she asked, looking in a fatigued manner at the Hylian agent.

Blinking was the response provided to her. Out of all the possible responses that Link had expected from her – most of those options were either an expression of gratitude or a burst of outrage, with very little in between – this was certainly not one of them. If he had been inclined to respond verbally at all, that inclination was now replaced completely by confusion.

The princess looked away, dropping her head once more as her gaze drifted back to the orange juice bottle she was holding at her knees in gloved hands. Her hair, having been subjected to sweeping wings while riding Epona for seven hours, was now a tangled mess and a bit frizzled. The sorry state of her hair was pronounced when she leaned forward where she sat, and the mass of strands hung pathetically in the air. Her hair, usually tied with bands and framed with a tiara, had been let completely loose; the bands had loosened and were torn off by the wind, while riding with a tiara became a painful affair, so she kept it around her wrist like a bracelet instead, as her dress pockets had been too small to accommodate it. "I probably shouldn't treat her that way," Zelda admitted quietly, although her voice expressed far more exhaustion than it did remorse or reflection. "I have this…strange suspicion of her that I can never shake…" she shook her head, as if troubled or resigned at the thought – it was difficult to tell when Link couldn't actually see her face behind the curtain of brown hair. "It probably has to do with…your predecessor." She shrugged pathetically, then finished in an equally lame manner, "Maybe."

It was not until Zelda turned back to look at Link several seconds later that he realized she was waiting for a response of some sort. Thrust into a position of conflicting loyalties made Link tremendously uncomfortable even as he unsuccessfully attempted to stop himself from a small fidget. He chose to simply adopt a neutral shrug.

Zelda smiled at the display of awkward neutrality. "You're just being dispassionate, aren't you?" she asked.

Link responded by the furrowing of his brow and a quirk of his lips – almost a grin – that indicated amused curiosity as to why the crown princess was driving the topic down this direction.

Successfully reading Link's expression, Zelda gave a light, slightly suppressed giggle as she hugged herself and looked away. "I'm sorry, I just…need to get the adrenaline out of my system. I still feel shaky. That motorcycle ride was horrible." She turned her attention to Link, shot him what was probably a coy, amused look despite her words. "_You're_ horrible, putting a princess on a motorcycle against her will."

Although not known for his sense of humor, Link still managed to convey a joke as he expressionlessly – no smile included – made what amounted to a slightly exaggerated bow offered in the presence of royalty. The message was awfully clear in its good-natured, well-intended sarcasm: "Well, excuse _me_, Princess." At that, Zelda giggled again in a manner that was far less restrained this time, appreciating the joke for what it was and somewhat glad to discover that her interim bodyguard _did_ possess a sense of humor. Satisfied his work was done, Link twisted open his own bottle of orange juice, quietly began to drain the bottle of its contents after hours of not having drank anything at all.

Zelda's laughter eventually trailed away and died down when she cast an amused look at Link, or, more specifically, his eyes. "Don't you ever take off your sunglasses?" she asked.

The raised eyebrows behind the seemingly opaque sunglasses rose just enough for Zelda to see them above the upper frame of the sunglasses; Link was surprised at the question.

The princess quickly waved her hand weakly in an effort to dissuade Link from thinking Zelda might have something against his uniform or fashion sense…or whatever compelled him to keep his sunglasses on throughout the dark night. "No, it's nothing serious," she shook her head. "It's just…I didn't have a chance to say it earlier because of, you know, _everything that's happened_, but…" she grinned, looked back at Link, "…I find it almost funny that you wear your sunglasses even during nighttime."

Turning away, Zelda had expected that her statement would be the end of their "exchange" – if Link's silent conveying of ideas via body language counted as the other half of their "conversation" – but as she turned her attention back to the orange juice in her hands, she was suddenly surprised to see something come down right before her eyes. She recoiled in reflex, but kept that movement in check when she realized that Link was, from the side, gently fitting his sunglasses over Zelda's hidden ears and right in front of her eyes. As soon as the sunglasses were properly affixed on the bridge of her nose, however, Zelda immediately saw why Link always wore the sunglasses. The lenses seemed to be some sort of optic polarizer or photographic filter, which not only helped cut down on reflections but also cut down contrast of everything she saw; bright objects became easier to look at while darker environments lit up just a bit to make out more details; the world around her became that much visually clearer. It offered a good tactical advantage for something as small, portable, and unsophisticated as sunglasses. They weren't nightvision goggles, but they certainly made up in the departments of size, cost, and adaptability. Nightvision goggles certainly couldn't cut down on excessively bright lights.

"This is really nice," Zelda had to admit with a smile even as she looked around the darkened, dawn-kissed landscape that had transformed before her eyes, slowly turning towards Link in the process. "I can't blame you for wearing this all the time; I should ask Joint Intelligence to get me one of…" Zelda had meant to continue, but she suddenly trailed off as her eyes finally gazed upon Link standing right beside her. Her smile slackened and fell right off her lips even as she looked at Link's face.

It was the first time she had ever seen Link without sunglasses. Zelda had not actually seen Link's dossier before, and did not see the photograph of him without sunglasses. Now that she was looking directly into his blue eyes, however, sharp at the edges but soft within, the crown princess suddenly made a startling realization that this Joint Intelligence agent was actually…very attractive. She had not actually ever seen any boy or man possess eyes that were masculine-looking, yet also quite…pretty.

Zelda breathed. Somewhere in the back of her head, alarms were going off as they warned the princess that she _was_ staring in a vulnerable manner into the eyes of a civil servant, but another mental voice whispered at them to be quiet because those eyes had so completely caught her off guard.

Link turning to meet Zelda's gaze after he had taken another sip from the bottle of orange juice was what finally brought her back to reality, and, afflicted with the realization that she might possibly be blushing, she suddenly turned away from Link, feeling greatly embarrassed even as she feigned struggling with the sunglasses in the attempt to take them off. Thankfully, Link did not help and expedite the process – the process being the façade for Zelda to orientate herself and fight off the wave of embarrassment – and displayed a largely expressionless face that betrayed nothing when she finally turned back around to hand the sunglasses back to Link. He accepted it gently, putting them back on and – with mixed feelings for Zelda – masked his eyes behind them once more.

It was a gentle, delicate moment as the two looked at each other, one individual who suddenly didn't know what to say, the other who never said anything at all.

Moments of silence passed before, finally, closing her eyes, Zelda inclined her head in what was a dignified bow of gratitude right before Link, her tired voiced breathing just loud enough for her loyal, dedicated, and steadfast interim bodyguard to hear, "Thank you, Link. Thank you for saving my life."

And, like before, the silent, wordless nod Link offered in return had a clear flavor of "you're welcome".

* * *

**Exoria File #004  
Valentine Revolution**

Until seventeen years ago, the Kingdom of Valent enjoyed full diplomatic relations with both Hyrule and Gerudo under the reign of King Adam III and his wife Queen Eileen. Despite ailing economic conditions due to the national economic bubble, Valent remained the leading exporter of technological advancements. Its cutting of the military budget was heavily criticized by members of Valent's national defense and national security communities for undermining the safety of the country, which led to a plot to launch a coup d'etat by highly influential members in both communities, including members of the Valentine Joint Chiefs. The plot, however, failed during its preparation stages when it was discovered two years prior to the Valentine Revolution; the effort to undermine the coup was rumored to be led by Lord Tacitus, younger brother and only sibling to King Adam III. Members of the plot committed suicide to save themselves from disgrace, while others were subsequently jailed and sentenced to life in prison for treason. Two years after the arrests, however, a highly successful coup, coined the Valentine Revolution by its masterminds, was launched by forces loyal to the masterminds behind the original plot, including former chairman of the Valentine Joint Chiefs, General Alphonse, who had been among those jailed when the plot was first discovered. Historians and analysts are not certain who was the actual mastermind of the Valentine Revolution, General Alphonse, the original conspirator who was eventually killed during the fighting, or Lord Tacitus, who joined the coup for unknown reasons and became the new king of Valent afterwards. The end result, however, was the same: The coup d'etat forces achieved a decisive victory in the capital and throughout the nation after two days of strategic fighting. Their victory was cemented by the widely-believed rumor that King Adam III and Queen Eileen had been killed in the conflict, although this was never confirmed by third-party intelligences sources. Under King Tacitus' regime, Valent became an excessively isolationist nation, building up on a nationalistic and militaristic fervor that increased worry from its neighbors, Hyrule and Gerudo.

* * *

Author's Note: I have stated previously that, had _Exoria_ possessed names for chapter, this one would probably be named "Motorcycle Chase Scene", in reference to _Final Fantasy VII_. The more I wrote the chapter, however, putting Link through one obstacle after another, that feeling changed, and I thought that I would make a shout out at the first _Halo_ game instead: "Wait, It Gets Worse!" I will admit, however, that I spent the entirety (well, most of it) of writing this chapter listening to "Chase of Highway" from the _Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Complete_ sountrack.

Before I say anything else, I want to thank my first three anonymous reviewers, Ri2, The Pilot, and Warbandit. It's always heartwarming for an author to see that one's works are being read and appreciated, even if it's after a prologue and two chapters are properly written. I hope I can satisfy your needs in the future with further installments of _Exoria_.

I honestly don't like writing action scenes. Maybe "not liking" is too strong a phrase, though, so I guess I'll stick with I'm "impartial". For me, writing action scenes is taxing and somewhat monotonous; you go through repetitively rapid rounds of conveying some of the same ideas utilizing the same words and phrases that you have become familiar with, in an effort to try to convey a scene in a three-dimensional sense. You're always worried that you're not being descriptive enough and the readers have no idea what you're trying to convey and the relation of environmental aspects with each other, and, on the flip side, you're also always worried that you're being so worried that readers are stumbling across your words and finding it frustrating or boring. I'd actually be quite grateful if I left action-scene-writing to someone who's good at it and can write at my level (not to suggest that I write well, never mind superbly, so there's little room for me to be arrogant, but I do know there's quite a number of horrendous fan fiction out there), but since no such volunteer has been brave enough to stand forth yet, I guess I'll have to tackle this hurdle by my lonesome.

This chapter is notably longer than any of the previous chapters, so I'm going to make up for it by being less wordy in Chapter Four, which will be shorter. For those who have found an analogy to the normal _Legend of Zelda_ formula, however, you have probably noticed that this is the conclusion of the first storyarc, the introduction of the world and the first crisis; after several more chapters of storytelling, we'll be moving onto the traditional element of dungeon-busting. I won't say how many dungeons there will be, though, and I'm not hinting what's going to happen after that. You'll just have to see for yourself, and I hope I can keep you all well-entertained until then.

Before I sign off on this author's note, however, I would like to remind everyone that AuraNightgale has been doing an unbelievably awesome and winsome job of proofreading my chapters, and I can't thank her enough for her patience – which probably exceeds the patience I have towards her not being online enough. She was also the one who helped me brainstorm some of _Exoria_, and, now that I've made the "Link jokingly wants to marry Epona" crack in canon, I should bring back an excerpt of an instant messaging conversation Aura and I had after she read this chapter and the joke.

**Aura** (6:40:39 AM): _It was at this point that Link moreorless jokingly told himself, if only as a means of self-relieving his stress, that if only Epona could cook, he'd probably marry her._  
...Once I finish laughing, that reminds me of something...

**Sudentor** (6:41:08 AM): Reminds you of? =3

*Aura pulls out IM history of conversation from months ago*

Sudentor: I'm also thinking of giving Link a Love Triangle.  
Aura: Doesn't he usually have one in some form or another? =P  
Aura: ...At least, according to some fans.  
Sudentor: ...I guess? This one will be a bit more obvious, though.  
Sudentor: One end is [censored, because there are spoilers].  
Sudentor: The other is...well. You'll see. If I ever manage to write it.  
Aura: Spoilaz, eh?  
Aura: I'm trying to remember the thoughts I had for this.  
Sudentor: Well, it'll to be tough explaining it to you.  
Aura: "And some other girl."  
"Okay, cool."  
Aura: Epona! *brick'd*  
Aura: *repeatedly*  
Sudentor: ... ...  
Sudentor: ... ...  
Sudentor: ... ...  
Sudentor: I am serious.  
Sudentor: My head suddenly hurt.  
Sudentor: In real life.  
Sudentor: Not kidding.  
Aura: xD  
Aura: Then I've done my job.

*back to present*

**Sudentor** (6:44:33 AM): /me ROFLs.

**Sudentor** (6:44:45 AM): Okay.

**Sudentor** (6:44:46 AM): Fine.

**Sudentor** (6:44:48 AM): You got me. XD

**Aura** (6:44:49 AM): =3

**Sudentor** (6:44:51 AM): It's Epona. XD

**Aura** (6:45:02 AM): *score!

You now all have permission to laugh at me at my own expense.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

The absence of trouble of any sort at the Hylian-Gerudo border told Link and Zelda that something was wrong and that there was trouble.

Stopping his motorcycle right between two booths between the highway lanes that acted as shelter from the sun for border control officials, Link quietly left Zelda sitting there on Epona – bulletproof windows protecting the interior of the two booths shielded her from attacks on two sides – as he drew his gunsword in handgun mode. He was pretty sure the first time that his eyes weren't mistaken as he approached border customs, but now that he actually got off and made one round across the checkpoint, moving from one fence to another through the facilities making up Hylian-Gerudo customs, he was very much sure of his initial assessment.

The border checkpoint was completely devoid of personnel, the border completely devoid of life. No bodies either. It had been abandoned.

It was noon, some ways more than five hours since Link filled up Epona with enough gas and got on their way to the Hyrule-Gerudo border again. Aside from two or three Valentine squads – strays that seemed to be merely going to rejoin the main unit rather than actual patrols – that they had to avoid on the way, it was, for the most part, a smooth and quiet ride…but strangely empty. The metropolitan center held the vast majority of the area's population, so there wasn't much in the way of nearby towns, but this was still quite uncanny. No living Hylian soul since they had left Hyrule City. It was as if the end of the world had come and went without either Link or Zelda. It meant either the Hylian military had done an extraordinary job at getting the civilians out…or something far worse.

The fact that the Hylian-Gerudo border was, in fact, a wide expanse of desolate desert didn't help impressions much.

"Something's wrong," Zelda whispered as Link returned, the slack, downward angle of his gunsword in a loose one-handed grip indicating to the princess that the agent had found no one. She spoke more for no one's benefit; both of them were already past knowing something was wrong, but neither of them had settled on a very definite possibility as to _what_. An abandoned border station could mean a great deal of things, not all of them a certainty…but definitely all of them unwelcome.

Link exhaled deeply, his version of a slightly frustrated sigh. Without enough evidence – which bugged him – he didn't want to jump to any conclusions, not when they were cut off from the rest of their allies…and possibly the world. A fleeting glance at Zelda told him that his princess thought the same.

Moving over to Epona, Link looked at his GPS device once more. The road they were on would eventually take them to a Gerudo military base – Sirsa Military Airbase – if they rode for another two hours. Hopefully, it would be there that they found their answers…but, somehow, Link wasn't feeling very optimistic about that. Still, he looked over at Zelda again, who was silently and half-heartedly reading the GPS map with him, her mind more absorbed on what move they were going to make next. When she caught the inquisitive look Link was giving her, she appeared to be deep in thought for a moment…but eventually nodded.

The danger aside, they were going to continue on their current course anyways.

* * *

It turned out that Link was half-right and half-wrong. On one hand, they had indeed found their answer to what was going on…twenty minutes before they even reached Sirsa Military Airbase. The problem was, however, they had little reason to be optimistic about what they found.

Link immediately drove Epona off the main road and into the vast expanse of sand as Zelda gasped, the two of them confirming that the great pillar of black smoke rising from the horizon was indeed from the desert military base many kilometers out, a faint outline that contrasted itself from the bright fires burning across the facilities. The desert was more sand than actual dust, so although Epona slowed in the desert with the absence of an actual road, she didn't kick up a massive cloud that could've alerted anyone to their presence, something Link feared and took great pains to avoid. He stopped once, three kilometers away from the base, to actually attempt to spot any immediate threat in the facility. Noting the absence of a perimeter guard, Link moved forward, but slowly, minimizing noise from the engine. If there was anyone inside waiting for them, he didn't want to raise an alert just yet.

Still, fires burning in Sirsa could only mean one thing. "The war's gotten here too," Zelda whispered in a voice that conveyed disbelief and – to a slighter extent – horror.

The barbed wire fence around Sirsa Military Airbase was, for the most part, gone – only patches of them still stood erect and undamaged, but most of the stretch of metallic barrier had been toppled, seemingly run down by armored vehicles or torn apart by explosions. Link had no problems slipping into the perimeter from the side, stick close to the hangar bays that were lined up on the northern side of the base. Some of them were still burning. He parked Epona into the shadow of one of the hangars, pressing her against the wall before killing the power. Motioning for Zelda to stay on Epona and remain hidden, Link quickly moved stealthily at a bit of a crouch towards the corner of the hangar, making sure the alley between the two hangars were clear before moving forward.

No longer riding fast on Epona with the wind blowing pleasantly across his face, Link realized for the first time that Gerudo afternoons truly were quite hot. This was only amplified by the fact that he still wore his all-black Joint Intelligence uniform, complete with jacket and tie. His personal discomfort, however, was hardly priority; he stomached the feeling and decided that he would deal with it until he was sure there was no immediate danger.

Peering out from behind the corner to the rest of the airfield and the runways, Link saw that Sirsa Airbase was in really bad shape. Even by looking at the aftermath of the battle, he could see what had transpired on this battlefield. Smoking, burning wreckages of fighter jets spewed across the runways; its numbers indicated to Link that, although some of the planes managed to get airborne, others were shot down before they even got off the ground. Those included the skeletons of various aircraft that burned along with the hangars they were stored in, the pilots never having got to them in time. He recognized the familiar craters caused by artillery, by missiles, by bombs. He recognized marks the anti-aircraft guns against hangar walls, holes caused by tank shells. And then there were the bodies. Tanned soldiers in military desert khakis littered the ground every now and then, some having died from gunshot wounds, others from blasts. It wasn't just Gerudo casualties either; every now and then, Link would spot a corpse in Valentine green as his eyes scanned the airbase. The result wasn't a pile of corpses, but the numbers, Link knew, were pretty significant. He had a feeling he would be finding more of them at the air traffic control facilities.

Judging by the carnage in Sirsa Military Airbase, the Gerudo soldiers had not exactly been caught off guard…but whatever measures they had taken to become completely ready had obviously not been fast enough.

His eyesight was pretty good, and the sunglasses minimized the glare of the window's reflections, but Link honestly wasn't sure if there was a sniper at the airbase's control tower a kilometer away. That would be where he'd station his sniper if he actually had one with him. The chances were unlikely; his eyes told him that there was no one up there from his angle, and there was the assumption that, if there _was_ someone up there, they would've noticed his approach on motorbike some time ago and alerted someone. There might not be any living soul left…or maybe someone who was still alive was a Gerudo soldier, not a Valentine on. Still, he didn't want to take the chance and give a sniper – friend or foe – a clear shot at him; he was going to make his way slowly and covertly to the air traffic control facilities, in order to take out any snipers there and take a good look around the airbase from a vantage point…which was difficult, considering that much of the base was made of wide-open roads, runways, and areas, giving Link little place to hide.

Having made the preliminary look-around, Link turned around, traversing the alley before rounding the corner back to where he had left Zelda and Epona. Back in the shadows, Link – for the first time since leaving Hyrule City – took off his black jacket and his tie – revealing the gunsword holster on his side over his black shirt – and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. The temperature here was stifling.

"Does it look bad?" Zelda asked in a quiet, worried whisper. She was sweating; unlike Link, her extravagant dress did not give her the luxury of being able to take off any article of clothing without seeming immodest.

Link momentarily wondered to what extent Zelda expected from the word "bad"…then killed that line of thought. He nodded. No matter how one looked at it, the situation was rather grim. He slung his jacket and tie over Epona's frame. What he was wearing wasn't exactly ideal for field work, but it'd have to do. He motioned for Zelda to stay put where it was safe before checking the ammunition for his gunsword. He only had two magazines left – fifteen rounds each – plus twelve rounds in the already-loaded magazine. In hindsight, he should've grabbed more ammunition back in Hyrule City when they passed by the underground armory beneath the Haven, but it was too late to regret that now. Three magazines would have to do; any more than that, and he would be getting into a firefight he couldn't possibly win.

He moved along the outer edges of the airbase, ensuring he stayed behind the hangars. He was lucky in that regard; despite the high sun, the hangars still provided some shadow for Link to hide in, his black attire blending well into the darkened areas. It was also well and good that the sun was very strong, as it only meant the contrast was greater, the shadows harsher. It meant Link's camouflage was even better than he had hoped for. Every now and then, he'd press himself against a hangar, look past the alleys between the hangars towards the airfield, see if there were any threats. Corpses – whether human or mechanical ones – were in no shortage, but there was yet to be any actual obstacles left for him. It worried Link some. Was this truly some sort of gross error on Valent's part, or was there some sort of trap lying in wait?

The line of hangars eventually ended, and Link stared at an uncomfortable two hundred meters of wide open space between where he hid behind the last hangar and the air traffic control facilities. A perfect target for a sniper, if one was around. He spent three minutes pressing himself against the wall, trying to look past the corner as he searched the most common sniper vantage points, looking for the telltale sign of a barrel or a lens flare. After not finding any, Link decided he would take his chances – not that there was much of another choice, and sprinted the two hundred meters as fast as he could. His steps were irregular, his velocity inconsistent, hoping that it might throw off a sniper's aim with his second changes in speed and direction. Still he was looking upwards for any sign of a sniper, any sign of danger, any sign that he might be caught completely in the open without any sort of cover.

Five meters away from the nearest shadow of the ground-level air traffic control facilities leading to the tower, Link leapt and dove, curling into a roll as he made that final lunge for safety. Seconds later, he was up against the wall, safely out of sight from any sniper vantage points as he breathed heavily, his gunsword brought up close to his face in handgun mode. There had been no attempt at sniping, no sign that there were any enemy forces out there. Perhaps the place truly was derelict.

It didn't hurt to be careful, however. There was a door – slightly ajar – to his right on the wall he had pressed himself against, leading into the facility. Scooting himself over to the door, he took off his sunglasses as soon as he reached the edge, holding up his sunglasses with a spare hand as a mirror to see if there was anything inside he should be concerned about. After ensuring that it was empty of anyone inside, he put his sunglasses back on, took a deep breath, a whirled around into the room.

He was only partially correct about the room being empty.

The room was littered with bodies. Link stepped cautiously into what almost looked like a large empty office space, filled with workstations and cubicles. The ground was layered with puddles of blood oozing from soldiers killed in action on the ground, both from Gerudo and Valentine. However, it was clear – just by the fact that the Valentine corpses wore full tactical gear while the Gerudo bodies looked like they were part of flight staff – that most of the bodies in this area would be of Gerudo airmen. Most of them were women; the Gerudo population was overwhelmingly female, while Valent recruited equally from both males and females groups. That was another thing that bothered Link. There was no body recovery operation. The remains of their own dead were usually recovered rather quickly by the military, if only for a means to provide a statistic as to who has died. Yet the Valentine bodies had just been…left there. Did the Valentine armed forces intend to send a clean-up party afterwards? After the continent-wide offensive succeeded or lost momentum? Link honestly wasn't sure, but the lack of answers left a rather bad taste in his mouth.

He stepped gingerly through the offices at a half-crouch, careful to avoid the puddles of blood to prevent him from leaving footprints. The wounds on the body looked fairly recent; even the pools of blood had yet to completely dry and cake over. This battle could not have been concluded more than a few hours ago…yet the haste at which the Valentine army pulled out was amazing. Just from the bullet holes everywhere, Link could tell how the firefight went down…and how little of a chance the Gerudo air force personnel had against a much better-trained and better-equipped Valentine army in terms of ground combat.

Sweeping through the facilities at a painstakingly slow pace, Link moved from office to lobby to cafeteria, from one building to another. The results were uniform; no one greeted him aside from the presence of the dead.

It was twenty minutes later when he finally ascended the staircase towards the top of the airbase's control tower. With his gunsword held tightly, he silently switched the weapon with a flourish into sword mode; the smaller confines of the tower would give close-quarters combat an advantage, especially since had didn't have an automatic weapon that could effectively sweep the tower with a hail of bullets. Navigating the last staircase in silence, Link peeked beyond the edge of the staircase and around the guardrail surrounding it. His eyes scoured his surroundings once before he slowly slept into the control room of the tower, a glass-framed room surrounded by computers that possessed a three-sixty overlook around the airport and its desert surroundings.

The control tower was empty.

At least that answered the sniper question. Converting his gunsword back to handgun mode, Link holstered the weapon as he checked the computers around the tower. There were no corpses here, and the computers were all inoperable upon further inspection. The air traffic control crew must have completely wiped out everything on the computers when they realized there was no hope of salvaging this airbase; if Sirsa was going to be captured by Valent, then Gerudo would make sure it was not functioning at full capacity…and that sensitive data wouldn't fall into enemy hands.

Peering out the windows, Link commanded the view around the airbase. It was then that Link truly realized the extent of the damage inflicted onto the airbase. Many buildings had completely collapsed, and far too many of the hangars had been destroyed by a combination of fires and explosions. Wrecks of airplanes could be seen even beyond the airbase where they had been shot down over the desert. Humanlike shapes here and there indicated where there was a body, and the runway was also blasted with explosions and blasts that tore craters across the area. His vantage point was hindered slightly by small columns of smoke that rose into the air and eventually formed a black pillar that accumulated in the clouds as a dark fog.

Below, however, Link spied something that he had not seen earlier on his way in, a single Valentine armored personnel carrier parked beside what looked like the airbase barracks. Unlike the other vehicles around, this one was not charred, damaged, or destroyed, but in completely battle-worthy condition. Maybe it was a single patrol left here? Link immediately tensed and drew his gunsword once more; perhaps there was still someone left on this airbase of Valentine origin. He wanted to take care of that before doing anything else.

It took another fifteen minutes of careful navigation around the remnants of the airbase before he managed to find the door that led out of the facilities and close enough to the lone APC. Opening the door just a bit, he ventured a peek out; no one as far as he could see. Moving quickly, he dashed the fifty meters of tarmac from the building's exit to the side of the armored vehicle. He listened carefully as he held his breath, and, not at all unexpectedly, heard muffled voice from inside the vehicle. If Link had to guess, the source of the sound was likely to be in the back of the carrier, where infantrymen could sit and rest with reasonable protection.

The hatches were closed and securely locked. Not that much of a problem for Link, who immediately transformed his gunsword into a longsword once more. With a single, powerful stroke of his gunsword, Link slashed at the two securing bolts that allowed the APC's armored rear hatch to swing open and shut. The gunsword made a distinct metallic sound as they severed through the reinforcing components…and the hatch groaned as it fell outwards, hitting the ground with a clang.

There were two Valentine soldiers, army infantrymen, inside who looked like they had been resting inside. They had been alerted when Link forced the rear hatch open, but they had not been fast enough to draw their assault rifles. They moved to draw their weapons and even had them halfway up, but Link took one threatening step forward, placing one foot into the APC, the point of his gunsword coming up, obviously poised to strike. Both soldiers froze at the movement; judging by the performance of their special forces units, they were all too aware of how effective a gunsword could be at close-quarters combat. They hesitated, keeping the assault rifles in their hands tentatively even as they kept their barrels pointed towards the ground, prepared to react, but not eager to give the Link any reason to use the sword.

The army corporal on Link's left seemed edgy, his breathing heavy and agitated. On the right, the sergeant seemed calmer even as she watched Link, alert and careful. Watching the situation with a keen, careful eye, the sergeant spoke softly to the corporal. "It's alright, corporal," she breathed calmly, standing frozen where she was. "No one needs to get hurt over this. Put down your weapon. Slowly."

The corporal hesitated, still in a semi-crouched position, ready to bring his rifle to bear on Link if need be. He glanced shakily at his sergeant, who silently but meaningfully nodded back in a slow, deliberate manner. It was only then that the corporal slowly slipped off the strap of his assault rifle from his shoulder, and, bending his knees to drop himself to a bit of a crouch, began to lay his assault rifle – still slowly – down on the ground…

Movement to Link's right immediately made him react. The sergeant had suddenly brought her assault rifle up, preparing to fire but, more importantly, draw attention to herself so the corporal could get the better shot. The rifle, switched to full automatic, had already fired twice by the time Link moved into attack range, but, thankfully, the rounds struck the armored floor between them, and they did not ricochet back up to hit Link, who immediately moved his arms into a slashing movement even as the corporal dropped down to a full, stabilizing crouch, shouldering his assault rifle in preparation to fire…

Link did not have the luxury to attempt to disarm the two soldiers. The stroke that he administered with the blade, therefore, the tip of his sword slashing right past the body armor of both soldiers and cutting into the flesh, was lethal. A deep gash formed across the chests of both soldiers, who slumped onto the ground after both emitted a wet sigh and did not move.

Link knelt beside the two bodies, pressing his fingers on their necks to ensure there was no longer a pulse. He was correct in his guess; they were both dead. A snap of a switch later, the gunsword returned to handgun mode, and he looked out the APC, ensuring that this wasn't some sort of ambush and there weren't any Valentine soldiers waiting for him to come out. Indeed, there weren't; as far as Link could tell – despite his worries that the situation was far too suspicious for his liking – they were safe.

For now.

* * *

Some of the hangars were still intact and undamaged, so Link pulled Zelda into one when he returned to the shadows behind the hangars. It was still quite hot despite being indoors and in better shade, but not as much as it was outside. Link, admittedly, was also concerned about Zelda's stamina and fatigue, so he silently offered her his jacket even as he sat her down on a cluster of metal crates nearby. If she decided she would sleep, the jacket could be used as a pillow or a blanket. Most likely pillow; the princess would probably boil over if she tried to use it as a blanket. She graciously took it and folded it into a neat square even as she tried to smooth out her hair and her dress. His princess attended to, Link got back to work.

The Valentine military was obviously in Gerudo, meaning riding with just Epona – restricted to the ground and the roads – was going to be even more dangerous than it already was. Furthermore, it only encouraged Link to move at night; he still wasn't sure where the enemy army was, and he'd rather sneak right past them under the cover of darkness instead of when the sun was still high in the sky with them well into the afternoon. This called for a different set of tools…specifically, a different type of vehicle: An aircraft.

Not all the hangars were damaged, so there was a chance that a number of aircraft would still be untouched and still operable. After all, it was unlikely that the Gerudo pilots managed to get to all the aircraft when the airbase was attacked. With Epona, Link made one quick round around the hangar buildings, memorizing each and every one of the intact aircraft still within. It was a disheartening process; most hangars had been destroyed, and most of the exceptions were empty. A rare few were only damaged hangars with intact fighter jets inside, but the problem was that Link was looking for a _specific_ type of aircraft; fighter jets did not apply.

What eventually did catch Link's attention, however, was a rather large shape inside one of the last few intact hangars he was passing by. His hopes were answered as he drove Epona in for a better look; stashed away in the corner was a heavy transport helicopter, the largest the Gerudo air force had in its arsenal. With a thirty-meter-long but well-armored body, the helicopter lacked the two-rotor design of Hyrule's heavy transport helicopters, but it certainly did make up with its utterly massive single rotor, which provided enough power for the helicopter to take off even with an additional fifteen thousand kilograms in cargo. If memory served correctly, this model did minesweeping for the army and the navy, while the air force used them for heavy lifting and transport – Gerudo's air force was relatively weak compared to Hyrule and Valent, so their air power was instead built with the emphasis of supporting and fielding their much more powerful ground forces. Even better was the fact that the aircraft was painted sleek black, perfect for nighttime operations.

At the moment, however, transport was exactly what Link needed; there was no way in hell he was going to leave Epona behind.

Boarding the helicopter, Link quickly activated the aircraft's instruments and ran a diagnostic. His hopes were answered; the readings were green across the board, meaning the helicopter was in a completely operable condition with no damage whatsoever. It was fully loaded with weapons and ammunition too. The fuel gauge was only at quarter-full, however, so Link needed to fix that. He remembered the presence of several still-intact fuel trucks closer to the hangar where he had left Zelda, so the helicopter was driven – in a manner not unlike driving a car – over to Zelda's hangar, but not before Epona was loaded onto the helicopter's cargo hold through the rear ramp, then tied down to ensure it wouldn't topple over in-flight. The helicopter's approach was relatively silent when it entered the hangar Zelda was in; Link immediately saw that the princess was indeed sound asleep, and she did not wake as the aircraft quietly entered through the hangar doors. Link reminded himself that the rest of the tasks should be performed in relative silence. Given a choice, he would've done refueling elsewhere, but his sense of duty and loyalty demanded that he stay close to the princess and keep her guarded.

A three-minute jog towards the airbase's main facility allowed Link to reach where the fuel trucks were. There were three trucks still intact, but only one still had the keys left in them, so Link got into one truck, then drove it back to the hangar where the helicopter was waiting. The truck's loud engine was harder to mask, but Link drove it inside the hangar doors anyways before killing power to the engine. Surprisingly, Zelda still did not wake…or had woken, but refused to open her eyes or get up. The entire ordeal since she was whisked out of the safe room in Hyrule Castle must've been harder on her than Link had originally suspected. Still, he couldn't deny her strength; she was handling the entire situation much more calmly and rationally than he would've otherwise expected from any other civilian. He had to give her credit for managing to keep it together in the face of such a disaster.

The hangar bay doors were closed to prevent scouts from looking into a hangar with a refueling helicopter. The helicopter was filled to maximum capacity about twenty minutes later, and Link double-checked the aircraft's instruments to make sure. The transport helicopter could fly almost just as fast as Epona could ride, but Link had commandeered the helicopter for maneuverability – he wanted to be able to stay out of reach of Valentine patrols and not be restricted to the ground – and Zelda's comfort. It was much easier to sit on a helicopter's co-pilot seat rather than the back of a motorcycle.

Link was still not ready to leave yet. Communications were not being jammed here, so Link turned on the cockpit radio after taking a national road map and a pen from the fuel truck's glove compartment. Shifting through frequencies, Link tried to find any military channels the armed forces – both Gerudo and Valentine – were using in an attempt to intercept their communications. It was not easy; most of the radio chatter was heavily encrypted to prevent eavesdroppers – just like him – from listening in, and the helicopter did not have the proper decryption algorithms to make sense of most of the transmissions. Link was thankful that the radio could receive as much as it did, probably due to the lack of electronic countermeasures in the area that made radiowave transmission and decryption that much more difficult. Most of the communiqués that _were_ received were of Gerudo origin – understandable, considering the decoding device on _this_ Gerudo helicopter – but that was all well and good even as Link drew circles and lines across the map of this desert nation. The point of this task was rather simple: Link wanted to know where the Valentine forces were, what areas they were occupying, and where there was fighting…because those were places he wanted to keep his vulnerable transport helicopter well away from.

As he suspected, communications on both sides were frantic, which could only mean that Valentine forces were definitely attacking Gerudo positions all across the nation, forming a main line of resistance that exchanged heavy fire. There was a stark, professional efficiency in which Valent coordinated its offensive even as early reports indicated a smooth offensive forward, which play a stark contrast to the loud, fast-paced, somewhat panicked reports coming in from the Gerudo side. As the hours passed, however, this slowly began to change; frustration began to lace the voices of Valentine commanding officers as reports of success became less frequent, while the relief heard amongst the Gerudo channels indicated that the desert army was finally successfully holding back what was otherwise a massive offensive campaign. Eventually, both sides were holding through at a stalemate, with no massive offensive campaigns on either side.

Four hours into the exercise, Link finally determined – through listening to assorted Gerudo and Valentine battle reports – that Valentine armed forces neglected a five kilometer gap across their main line of resistance two hundred kilometers to the southeast. It was one of several, but judging by the circles and scratches where Link marked as positions of where the Valentine armed forces were, this empty spot was most conspicuous. Consulting the map, he quickly saw the reason why: There was a system of canyons and crevices there, massive and irregular in shape, and the army could not actually pass through efficiently. Not to mention the area held absolutely no strategic advantage, not with the area far from any infrastructure or naturally-advantageous terrain. A helicopter might stand more of a chance flying over, however. Furthermore, with the sun already setting, Link was fairly confident that strategic operations would likely end for the day as night settled in, allowing for both militaries to take a reprise from the fighting. This meant that the positions of the Valentine army were not likely to change anytime tonight, and Link did not have to worry about Valentine forces not being where they weren't supposed to…as much, anyways. There was never any certainty about these kinds of things. At least it meant a lower chance of catching anti-aircraft fire, however.

Link made a quick double-check of everything done so far, ensuring that he hadn't forgotten anything. Once he was certain that he had diminished the risk of being attacked to its absolute minimum, he stretched in his seat, closed his eyes for a little bit. Link had to be honest when he admitted to himself that he was feeling exhausted. Not having actually slept since the previous morning, he had effectively been awake, alert, and busy for the past thirty-six hours, all without a moment of rest. He contemplated just how well he would be able to fly a helicopter in this state…then decided that it shouldn't be a problem; it would only be two hours to nearby Gerudo defensive positions – a bit longer if they had to be careful and avoid Valentine units, and if that happened, Link was sure adrenaline would be able to compensate.

It was only after this that he slipped out of the helicopter's pilot seat and decided to go over and wake Zelda. She slept soundly, as expected of a princess; the desert heat had cooled as the sun began to set and the night went from a bright azure to a blazing red to a melancholy purple, and that must've subconsciously encouraged Zelda to rest as much as she could. Link was almost hesitant to wake her up, but he did, gently shaking her shoulder. She woke slowly and drowsily; he had not been rough, so she had not become instantly alert with the assumption that something was wrong, and allowed Link to help her up and steer her towards the prepared helicopter.

Zelda was not actually quite sure what was going on even as she was put onto the co-pilot seat of the helicopter. She was still quite unclear of mind when the door was closed behind her, and it wasn't until Link opened the hangar doors, came around, entered the cockpit on the pilot side, and began flipping switches to activate the helicopter that Zelda suddenly realized that she had missed a very important detail, and the reason why she had been slow to react was because she had not actually expected one thing. Watching Link calibrate the instruments of the helicopter fluently even as the engines came online, the princess asked rather incredulously, "…You know how to fly a helicopter?"

Link nodded stoically as he drove the helicopter out of the hangar bay, but when he realized that Zelda was still looking at the young agent incredulously, his eyebrows raised and shrugged in a manner that _almost_ asked, "…What, don't you?"

Even as their helicopter rolled out onto the tarmac runway and the rotors began to spin in preparation for takeoff, Zelda wonder what vehicle Link _didn't_ know how to operate.

As the rotors gained speed and grew to a deafening roar, creating a miniature hurricane around them, Link quickly pulled together the safety harness, a more extensive version of what is otherwise known as a safety belt in a car, and, tapping the contraption twice, motioned for Zelda to do the same; she quickly obeyed. Snapping the final clasp into place, she noticed the map Link had tucked right beside his seat, and took one look at it before immediately realizing just what Link had been doing, marking the map with circles, lines, and arrows. No further explanation was needed as Zelda gingerly took the map, attracting Link's attention. "You should concentrate on flying," Zelda tried to call out above the sound of the helicopter, but her voice was drowned out in the hurricane; even she couldn't hear herself.

Link knew that most of the sound actually came from the engine and the rotating machinery inside the helicopter, and that these transport helicopters were actually relatively silent from the outside. Still, it didn't help Zelda's situation any. Patiently, Link pulled down a pair of headsets from above him, and Zelda, seeing the second pair, did the same with hers. Generally, the pilot helmets were wired into the communications system, but with the absence of helmets, helicopters generally came along with an extra set just in case.

Affixing the headset properly to her head, she twisted down the microphone, tapped it twice to ensure there was feedback, then spoke to Link again, who also had his headset on. "You should concentrate on flying," Zelda tried again, "and leave the map-reading to me."

Link momentarily wondered whether or not Zelda could actually read military maps…but figured that the princess was sober enough to know what was at stake; she wouldn't offer that kind of help unless she was confident she could contribute. Nodding solemnly, Link ensured that the rotors had achieved takeoff rotation rate before finally increasing power. Slowly, the heavy transport helicopter lifted off its wheels and began its ascent. Despite having sat in transport helicopters many times in the past, Zelda still instinctively grabbed tightly onto the edge of her seat; she had never actually rode a helicopter on the co-pilot's seat, and the view she commanded was, admittedly, a bit…intimidating. Still, she steeled herself, repeating in her mind that taking off was the hardest part, and she should have faith in Link, who wouldn't have taken a helicopter had he not known how to pilot it.

Gently, the helicopter finally achieved a safe altitude – approximately twenty meters above ground, as Link didn't want to pull off anything too fancy with an aircraft this heavy, especially with Zelda onboard – and Link tilted the yoke forward; the nose of the helicopter tipped downwards ever so slightly as it began to hover right on ahead. It took a few more seconds before the helicopter achieved a velocity of more than two hundred and eighty kilometers per hour, its maximum speed. He'd have to slow eventually when he got close to where the two armies were fighting, but, for now, he maintained his current speed and altitude, flying low enough to prevent himself from appearing like a solar flare on enemy radar, but not so low that he was creating a sandstorm under a helicopter.

Link spied the terrain around and below the helicopter even as he flew on, keeping an eye on the radar, provided by the radome at the nose of the aircraft. So far, everything was quiet and dark; the only exception was Sirsa Military Airbase, which still burned and lit the horizon a dim orange in contrast to the dark navy blue that was swiftly turning a stark black. Hopefully, the situation would remain that way.

"This doesn't make any sense." Zelda's voice suddenly came over his headset. Utilizing the light from the computer instruments, Zelda was reading the map while consulting a strategic pathfinder system – a military version of global positioning – in front of her. She also kept an eye on the terrain around her just in case the instruments were faulty, but diverted some of that attention on Link as well. She had an uncanny knack at multi-tasking.

Link tilted his head slightly in her direction, indicating that he was giving her some of his attention, but would also like some clarification as to what she was trying to refer to.

"The Valentine strategy," Zelda elaborated, her voice thick with concentration as she continued to seem distracted by a combination of everything that had happened to her so far and everything that she was keeping track of now. "A political tripod – Hyrule, Gerudo, and Valent dividing power into three on the continent – may be fragile, but it keeps one nation from attempting anything foolish in fear of retaliation or exploitation from the third. Yet Valent is attacking…_both_ countries. That's the worst possible move."

Link wasn't so sure about that. He understood the logic behind the political tripod, a favored formation for an international zero-sum game that kept all three nations in check. One didn't become a Joint Intelligence agent without understanding geopolitics enough to predict the consequences of their actions. But he remembered that walker Valent had deployed against them back in Hyrule City…that massive armored vehicle that walked on legs and destroyed an entire roadblock in all of about three seconds. He had never seen anything like it before, but the agent had no doubt of the weapon's ridiculously high effectiveness. Somehow, Link didn't think that this was about Valent making a bad move, not as much as it was about Hyrule and Gerudo no longer having the cards to keep Valent in check.

Zelda couldn't read minds, however, and continued in her distracted manner. "They're not holding the bases either. There doesn't even seem to be a strategic objective for the war. They're just destroying everything. They're not holding key positions, not occupying towns or cities, not commandeering bases…They just run over everything in their way and move on. I have no idea what they're trying to accomplish."

That was something Link could agree with. Granted, he was a special operations agent, not a soldier, but he knew enough of military strategy for him to realize that Valent's behavior was…excessively abnormal. The occupational force in Hyrule City seemed only enough to force out the last remnants of Hylian resistance, not to actually hold the city. The invasion force weren't setting up strategic positions outside the main line of resistance they were engaging enemy armies on. They destroyed bases, didn't bother to collect the bodies, and just…moved on. He wished he had been able to capture the two Valentine soldiers from earlier alive; he might've had more answers if they had survived interrogation. Because, at the moment – and he was sure Zelda felt the same way – Valent's strategy seemed geared towards destruction…simply destroying everything.

Suppressing the chill rising up his spine, Link forced his thoughts to another direction, and wondered just how well the Hylian military was holding together. The last time they had even seen the Hylian military was the friendly roadblock in Hyrule City on Highway A-7…which was summarily destroyed. Afterwards, they didn't even see wreckages or bodies along the way to Gerudo. Were they making a strategic retreat to regroup in the absence of their commander-in-chief? Just what had happened since they managed to seal Zelda away in a safe room after initial defenses were overwhelmed?

There wasn't much else to talk about. Link obviously was in no mind to speak, and Zelda needed to multi-task – and probably think about the welfare of her nation as well – so they flew on in relative silence for the most part, which was broken from time-to-time as Zelda made slight course corrections and pointed out possible signs of the enemy in the distance for the first two hours.

Two hours later, the orange glow of distant fires on the horizon told both Link and Zelda that they were definitely headed in the right direction.

Link immediately lowered his altitude even more as he decreased speed, moving the helicopter more stealthily than he had before as he looked over at the map Zelda held; she shifted it over in his direction so he could get a better look. Link recalled that there was a string of rock formations in the area – the national attractions guide on the back of the map had mentioned it and its location in passing – and, after determining its rough location, made sure his heading was turned slightly southwards before moving forward once more at a slow pace. If he was right, then this was the right direction to be headed.

That they were getting closer to the fires meant that he was.

Zelda gasped even as her hands went over to her mouth as she looked down over the flaming carnage they flew over. Link remembered marking this place on the map; if his recollections of the radio chatter were accurate, the Gerudo army had initially held this position with furious fighting on both sides, but the staggering losses eventually convinced the defenders that this portion of the desert bore no strategic advantage, and they were forced to make a tactical retreat…but not before leaving many of their ruined tanks and sisters-in-arms behind.

The entire thing looked like a scene out of hell. Tanks, helicopters, and every military vehicle deployed to the area had been destroyed, rent, and charred, burnt by the flames that still flickered and waved and licked at melted battle plates, the edges of metal having been torn asunder, looking as if they were great jags and scimitars sticking out and twisting evilly from some sort of hostile alien landscape. The vehicles were not seen every now and then either; it seemed as if the entire desert area was, in fact, covered in destroyed vehicles, all of them aflame, a massive bonfire in the desert. Every now and then, there would be the unexpected but loud crack from below as unspent ammunition caught fire and detonated, an occurrence that happened every now and then between long periods of relative silence, causing Zelda to flinch almost every time.

Link was just happy that Zelda couldn't see the bodies; the flames were likely to have turned all of them to ashes, or hid them under the brightly glowing blazes. He tapped the pathfinder device twice, configuring it so that it displayed a more localized digital map, but his ulterior motive was to attract his princess' attention from the unholy carnage back to…anything else. It worked; Zelda got back to work looking on the maps, but Link could tell she was greatly shaken. He gently began to tilt the helicopter away from the graveyard of war; he didn't need to let Zelda see that, and the smoke and smell of burning metal and flesh was beginning to seep its way into the helicopter.

Minutes later, the rock formations became more obvious, and the density of the fires of war thinned. Consulting the map and the various instruments of the helicopter, Zelda did the math instantly in her head before pointing Link in the right heading. "There," she whispered, her finger indicating in the direction of what otherwise seemed like a wide canyon. "That formation should lead us for two kilometers eastbound." Link nodded, but did a quick double-check of her calculations. He didn't need to put the numbers together as precisely as Zelda did; he just made sure the rough results were close enough, and ventured the guess that the princess was accurate enough. He altered his course just by a few degrees, moving through the canyon and spires of rocks cut and smoothened by centuries of erosion. They bore an uncomfortable resemblance towards the valley of death that they had passed through earlier, but possessed smoother edges instead of the sickening curls that the molten metal from before had adopted.

Twisting his eyebrows into a frown, Link concentrated even as he carefully piloted the helicopter through the ravine. The geographic depression allowed for him to remain off any low-altitude anti-aircraft radar Valent might be packing in the area – lessening the chances a fighter jet would be scrambled to their position and end their escape with a well-placed air-to-air missile – but that wouldn't matter much if his rotors caught a cliff wall and sent the helicopter on a chaotic tumble from which he could never recover. He wasn't exactly an ace pilot either, and maneuvering twenty thousand kilograms of thirty-meter-long helicopter through a thin crevice wasn't exactly the easiest of tasks. There were times where he was forced to hover in place for minutes to look for the best place to inch forward, but the canyon eventually widened, allowing Link to move with increasing speed. Still, with aerial maneuverability difficult even without ground terrain restrictions, he could only guess why Gerudo forces didn't bother to station units here; it was near-impossible to navigate this kind of terrain.

"We should be reaching the end of the canyon soon," Zelda informed as Link picked up speed, not enough to be doing any daredevil tricks, but enough for them to not feel like an airborne caterpillar. "If we're lucky, well…" she took a deep breath, then exhaled; it was shaky. "Hopefully, there will be Gerudo forces waiting for us on the other side."

Link merely nodded, but began to tinker with the communications suite on the helicopter. Zelda winced as a wash of static came over her headset, which was slowly replaced by the unintelligible but distinct sounds of human voices on the radio, definitely female. She felt a growing excitement in her chest as she realized that _all_ of the voices on the radio were female, and they were speaking Interlingua with different variants of a Gerudo accent. They were getting close…at least, close enough for her to hear their radio transmissions despite being shielded in a canyon.

Apparently, they were also close enough for them to be detected by Gerudo forces as well, which soon detected a friendly air force IFF tag. Radio chatter on the Gerudo side immediately began to register surprise as a friendly heavy transportation helicopter was detected making its way through the canyon, which slowly turned into confusion and outright suspicion as the IFF was discovered to be registered under Sirsa Military Airbase, which they knew had already fallen to Valentine forces. Alarmed, Zelda quickly looked at Link, who understood her unspoken statement and merely nodded before tapping a few buttons on the communications suite, connecting Zelda's headset from the cockpit frequency – used for the pilot and co-pilot to communicate above the sounds of the helicopter – to the general emergency frequency open to practically all Gerudo units in the area. Completing this, Link nodded to Zelda, giving her the go-ahead to speak and expect for someone to actually hear what she was saying.

"To the Gerudo armed forces defending the area," Zelda spoke clearly into the headset's microphone, and Link was silently impressed at how regal and serenely authoritative she could sound even after going through nearly twenty-four hours of action, "this is Crown Princess Zelda of Hyrule. I am in one of your helicopters commandeered from Sirsa airbase, approaching from the canyons to your west. Please do not fire on us; we do not mean any harm. We have managed to escape the Valentine offensive on both of our nations, and I have come here seeking the help of Generalissimo Ganondorf and the Gerudo armed forces. As the sovereign of Hyrule, I hereby request a diplomatic escort to Garuda as soon as possible."

For a moment, the communications channel was completely silent. No shouting or cries of an attempt at deceit. Zelda wondered exactly what was going on, whether the soldiers had been shocked into silence at the development, or if they were debating the likelihood of Hyrule's crown princess on an approach helicopter. Still, she waited patiently even as Link, noting the lack of a response, held the helicopter in a holding position as he descended further into the canyon, hoping to be able to avoid any preemptive military action or friendly fire on Gerudo's part.

Finally, just a few seconds over a full minute later, a new voice – its calm, educated-sounding voice hinted at the speaker being some sort of intelligence officer – came over both Link and Zelda's headsets, her voice stern but reasonable. "Princess Zelda, this is Major Jessica. We need to do a voiceprint check to confirm your identity. This should not take more than three minutes. Please repeat these sentences after me…"

For a few seconds, Zelda listened and repeated a combination of seemingly random words strewn together into a grammatically correct sentence, speaking clearly even as she tried to keep her voice stable, knowing that there was the fear that – for whatever reason – whatever was doing voiceprint verification would erroneously report the results as negative and shooting down their chances for a safe extraction to Garuda. After being guided through three sentences, Zelda was promised that she would get a reply within two minutes, presumably so that Jessica could send Zelda's voice recordings back to Garuda for immediate audio analysis. As Jessica left the radio, Zelda temporarily disconnected her headset from the system, taking a few seconds to gasp and breathe heavily, getting the shakes out of her system. Link watched in unmoving silence, but he was not at all unsympathetic; whether her day of suffering had been meaningful or meaningless ultimately rested on this one trivial moment of confirming whether or not she was truly who she was.

No more than two minutes later, Major Jessica returned to the communication channel; she sounded a bit stressed at the situation on hand, but very much relieved at the development. "My apologies for the confusion, your Highness," she was quick to apologize when she addressed Zelda. "We needed to ensure this was not a Valentine trick. Your voiceprint checks out, and we are making your arrival the utmost priority. Please proceed on your current heading, your Highness; our anti-aircraft guns have instructions not to fire. We will give you landing clearance, provide you with anything you might need on the ground – food, medical attention, anything you need – and get you to Garuda as soon as possible."

Even though Jessica obviously couldn't see it, Zelda provided a tired smile anyways, something that reflected in the way she spoke even as her shoulders slumped and she visibly relaxed. "Thank you, major," she managed to gratefully reply in a soft, almost breath-like voice before finally disconnecting her microphone from the channel.

As soon as she was sure no one was listening in, Zelda leaned back against her seat, looking as if she was close to tears of mirth as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, expunging another shaky breath. Her hands, clasped together, were trembling. She looked like she was coming close to becoming a bit of an emotional wreck, yet, seconds later, she still managed to look at Link with clear, tired eyes and provided a small smile.

"We made it," she whispered in relief.

Her voice didn't completely make it over the headset to Link, so soft was her voice and so loud was the ambience, but Link, having been trained lightly in lip-reading, managed to figure out what she was saying anyways. He nodded as he angled the helicopter into its final approach vector, silently mouthing "we made it" in agreement even as Zelda closed her eyes once more and finally allowed the tears to slowly flow.

* * *

**Exoria File #005  
Excerpt from Appendix A: Abridged Comprehensive Timeline, "Continental History: The Last 100 Years" (1507 First Edition)**

"…**1407 a.s.r.** – The **1407 Hyrule City International Convention** successfully votes on the international auxiliary language of the continent. While all nations and locales retain their own national languages or regional dialects, the official language used for international purposes is voted to be **Interlingua**, with two yea votes from Hyrule and Valent…

**1449 a.s.r.** – Dispute over territorial administration of the resource-rich Death Mountains leads to a terrorist attack that temporarily but severely cripples mining operations in the area. Productivity and economical welfare in all three nations plummet, leading to the **Second Continental War**, in which Hyrule, Gerudo, and Valent clash over available natural resources in the Death Mountains. The war ends six years later after no surrender from any of the belligerents with the **Truce of Newberg**, albeit with an indecisive Hylian victory, due to the allocation of nearly fifty percent of Death Mountain resource-rich territories to Hyrule. The Second Continental War is, to this day, the bloodiest war in continental history.

**1456 a.s.r.** – Dissatisfaction with post-Second Continental War administration and economic conditions in the poorer region of southern Gerudo reaches a climax, and opponents to the central government instigate the **Second Southern Gerudo Civil War**. International assistance allows the Gerudo central government to put down the revolt within a year…

**1468 a.s.r.** – Zoran rights activist **Madonna** is assassinated by human supremacist groups in Memphis, Hyrule, triggering the largest series of riots in the continent's history. Public rioting, fighting, and lynching hits a peak in **Bloody Friday**, where more than one hundred and fifty people died in the violence, many more were injured, and damage up to one billion rupees were incurred. Zoran terrorism sees a dramatic rise. Madonna's assassination brings more awareness to Zoran rights, and, by the end of the year, the **Third Zoran Accord** is signed, guaranteeing abridged Zoran civil rights and removing restrictions on territorial claims of Zoran natural reserves in all three nations…

**1482 a.s.r. **– **Cybil Laboratories**, located in Hampshire, Hyrule, finishes construction on the **Large Hadron Collider**. In response to worries from Gerudo and Valent as to potential Hylian exploitation of technologies from Cybil Laboratories, the **Hampshire Treaty** is signed in the same year to ensure that the international civilian laboratory does not receive any interference from any military-related agendas from any nation…

**1490 a.s.r.** – Ultranationalist faction in Valent led by **General Alphonse** initiates the **Valentine Revolution**, toppling the rule of **King Adam III**, presumably after years of protest against Valent's weakening defense policy. After a three-day nationwide military campaign, forces loyal to King Adam III are defeated; **Lord Tacitus**, younger brother to King Adam III, is crowned king in the absence of General Alphonse, who was killed in action during the revolution…

**1505 a.s.r.** – **King Robin II** of Hyrule is critically injured in a car accident in Hyrule City, and is confined to medical care as he enters a coma; **Princess Zelda**, only daughter to the Hyrule royal family, takes on the title of crown princess and accepts duties as Hyrule's sovereign at sixteen years of age…"

* * *

Author's Note: For those who have been bored enough to go back to the Prologue for a look, you will notice that something has been added to near the very top. This fic has now officially been dedicated to AuraNightgale, so do give her a round of applause and drinks if you ever manage to catch her.

This chapter, as promised, is a bit shorter than any of the previous ones. I had actually wanted to extend this storyarc a bit by forcing yet another crisis on them before they got to Garuda, but I decided against it; it would've been too forced, and revealed too much about the continental offensive being launched by Valent. So, my apologies, but you'll have to look for your clues and spoilers elsewhere.

A serious thank you goes out to reader and reviewer The Pilot, who noticed a typo on my part when it came to numbering just how many Valentine soldiers were involved in the Hylian invasion effort. Instead of one hundred and thirty thousand, I accidentally wrote thirteen thousand instead. That one extra zero makes a great difference, and I'm quite glad the mistake was pointed quickly. This mistake has been swiftly rectified. Much thanks and kudos, The Pilot.

I'd like to take a moment to plead for current readers to please spread the word; tell your friends and fellow Zelda fans about _Exoria_, and get them to read it too, even if you must do it by forcing them to do so at the point of a Master Sword. I would be greatly appreciative if you do so; an author is only as good as the audience s/he attracts.


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Link found out just how tired he was when he finally realized, his eyes fluttering behind his tinted sunglasses as he struggled to stay awake after being startled to awareness, that Major Jessica had actually gently shaken him twice before managing to elicit a conscious response out of him. Trying to open his eyes and suppress the dull ache in his head told him just how hard it was on him to wake up after only a few hours of sleep, having remained awake for a day. He was honestly surprised that he could actually fall sleep in the helicopter, but the rocking – the helicopter bobbing up and down like a cradle – might have helped. Still, he mentally chastised himself; it was poor form for him to fall asleep when they had yet to reach Garuda.

Shaking his head to clear out the drowsiness – it made him dizzier, but at least he was more awake now – his eyes darted around to survey his familiar surroundings. He was in the hold of a heavy transport helicopter, surrounded by sleek metal composing the frame of the aircraft, strapped into one of the seats in the back along with a sleeping Princess Zelda right beside him and a diplomatic escort composed of four Gerudo soldiers – excluding the pilot and co-pilot of the aircraft – who had been available. Epona was strapped down tightly to the floor of the hold, ensuring that it wouldn't topple or slide should the helicopter have to make any sharp turns. It wasn't the same helicopter that Link had flown into Gerudo lines, but a separate one with the Gerudo defending force that had been fully-fueled and ready; understandably, Major Jessica didn't want another scare over IFF identification codes.

"Agent Link," Jessica nodded in satisfaction now that Link was awake, her face stoic even as she leaned over his helicopter seat, one hand against the slanted walls of the helicopter to stabilize herself within the moving aircraft. Her voice was not extraordinarily loud, but it was enough to be heard about the roar of the helicopter. "Apologies for waking you. I just want to inform you that we're in Garuda airspace now."

Link nodded in understanding, and undid the straps on his seat while Jessica took a step back to allow the Joint Intelligence agent to rise undeterred. She was dressed in the white, almost cleric-like robes of the Gerudo MICO, or the Military Intelligence Coordination Office, the umbrella military intelligence organization of all of Gerudo's armed forces. The white robes made her a somewhat conspicuous target when standing beside Gerudo soldiers dressed in the national colors of red and tan, but Link knew Jessica – along with the rest of her colleagues in MICO – wasn't too worried, not when a position in the office effectively meant being placed behind a desk, collecting intelligence and reports, analyzing the information, then transmitting required data in real-time to all commanding officers in the field. Her hair tied back in a ponytail, she was also much shorter and had a lighter skin tone compared to the soldiers in the helicopter; it was understandable, considering MICO agents were primarily rear echelon officers, mostly confined indoors and out of the sun to desk jobs or command-and-control roles, positions that didn't see much deployment in the field. With the princess Zelda now officially in Jessica's charge – surviving senior military officers couldn't be relieved from the frontlines to escort her back to the capital, not with the situation at the main line of resistance still extremely volatile – the major seemed to be taking her duties very seriously; despite her calm efficiency, it was clear to Link that she was stressed at having to watch over a very politically-sensitive package, even though they were flying over friendly territory. No one harbored any delusions as to who would or wouldn't be blamed if something were to happen to Zelda under Jessica's supervision.

Freeing himself of the harness that kept him safely in his seat, Link finally stood up and moved towards the cockpit, Jessica right behind him. Poking his head into the cockpit, he listened to the chatter between the pilots and air traffic control as code words and clearances were passed to and fro, looking out the window at Garuda. It wasn't his first time here, but every time Link came to Garuda, he was always impressed by the one aspect that stood out to him about this city: It was enormous. The lights below the helicopter were few and in between as it flew over the outskirts of the capital, but even as the aircraft approached the center of the city, lights from all around seemed to gather together, and from Link's perspective, nighttime Garuda – even deep through the day beyond midnight – looked like a galaxy, stars and pinpricks of light swirling around and eventually gathering in a swell of luminosity at its core. It was bright and dazzling, no signs of destruction anywhere. Unlike Hyrule City, the winds of war have yet to reach the Gerudo capital.

The buildings also increased in height as the distance to the city center decreased. Unlike Hyrule City, Garuda did not have much in the way of skyscrapers – massive buildings were not necessarily entirely practical in the desert climate – so the population was spread out across a large area instead of being relocated higher towards the skies. Still, as he flew over the outskirts, primarily formed by smaller, humble, single-story abodes and huts, he could see that the houses – residential or otherwise – were becoming larger and taller, until many of them were anywhere from ten to fifteen stories tall. Deeper into the city, as the buildings reached ten stories in height, was a ring-wall that surrounded the inner portion of the city, a massive congregation of metallic alloys that dominated many parts of the city, reaching to forty meters in height and ten meters in thickness, protecting the inner city from sandstorms and ground offenses. As the helicopter soared right above them, it came close enough for Link to spot what he always knew were there, dozens of turrets ranging from chain guns to cannons to artillery pieces to rocket launchers to missile tubes mounted on the defensive walls, capable of engaging any distant targets on land or in the air.

"Roger, ATC, clearance to land at Fort Garuda helipad west received," the pilot said, presumably in response to the air traffic controller on the other end of his headset. "Routing codes check out. Naga-1 inbound."

Fort Garuda, the center of Gerudo national authority, was not at all like Hyrule Palace, or even the entirety of Hyrule Castle. Although the Hylian palace and the Gerudo fort both towered over the local architecture, Fort Garuda clearly towered over the entire city, a feat that Hyrule Palace had not accomplished with the construction of corporate skyscrapers. It did not possess the tranquil beauty of the residence of the Hylian royal family, but Fort Garuda was not any less effective at attracting attention. Constructed from a mixture of reinforced concrete and hardened metallic battle armor, it resembled some strange combination of an enlarged bunker, a cathedral, and a ziggurat. The structure itself was sturdy enough to withstand all but the heaviest artillery attacks, and could withstand multiple direct hits from smart bombs. Occupying around three hundred acres in area – practically a kilometer long on all four of its square sides – Fort Garuda reached for the skies, ending its grasp at nearly one hundred meters from the surface. Like the fortress walls around inner Garuda, the fort was armed to the teeth with weapons. Even from kilometers away, Link could spot massive cannons and artillery pieces implanted deeply into its armor, most of which were capable of being withdrawn back into the fortress' metallic shell. Furthermore, although Link could only see some of the tanks around it, he knew from his Joint Intelligence briefings that Fort Garuda was heavily guarded by at least two army battalions at any given time.

With its combined firepower, there was little doubt as to what Garuda was: A fortress city.

"The generalissimo is aware of Princess Zelda's arrival," Jessica assured Link from behind him, "and would like me to inform you that he will be receiving her personally."

The Hylian agent nodded at the news. The helicopter circled Fort Garuda once, preparing an entry vector onto the west helipad of the fort; it was one of three that stood out from an aerial view, pronouncing the building's multi-tiered design. Link did not stay to watch the view even as he returned to the passenger hold, Jessica making way for him, and stopped right beside the sleeping form of Zelda. She had managed to wash up just a bit after Link landed their helicopter behind Gerudo lines in a small town that the Gerudo military had transformed into a temporary command post – they spent an hour there preparing for Zelda's immediate departure for Geruda – but she certainly still looked like a princess who had spent the last day running for her life. Link wondered if Zelda really would like to meet the generalissimo like this as head of state…but figured there was no choice in the matter. Gently, he rocked the princess' shoulder, slowly shaking her to consciousness.

Zelda slowly roused as she made a small moaning sound, her eyelashes fluttering in an attempt to fully open them. She looked around, trying to orientate herself, figure out where she was, then returned her attention to Link and Jessica, both standing solemnly in front of her. "Are we near Garuda?" she asked drowsily in a voice that sounded distinctly like a mumble.

"We're already over Fort Garuda, your Highness," Jessica answered formally with a slight bow in the presence of foreign royalty. "The pilot is conducting final landing procedures. The generalissimo will be receiving you personally."

Nodding sleepily, Zelda rubbed her eyes weakly in the attempt to shake herself from the grasp of drowsiness; Link surmised that she either did not care much for appearance right at this very moment…or was too tired to actually connect the dots.

Noting that Link's gaze seemed to flicker every now and then to Epona – the motorcycle that managed to bring them half the way here in one piece – Jessica made sure that she addressed his concerns directly. "Your vehicle will be delivered straight to the garage in the fort, agent," she reassured Link. "If necessary, our technicians – with your permission, of course – can conduct repairs on it."

Link nodded and wondered if he wanted to take up on the offer. After all, aside from scratches here and there from ricocheting bullets, Epona was fine…and giving the technicians a chance to repair the motorcycle might also be giving them a chance to see what makes her tick. Link wasn't sure he wanted to disclose this kind of military technology, even to an ally like Gerudo…at least, not without authorization from someone with greater authority.

The fact that the helicopter was no longer twirling, combined with the sinking feeling in Link's stomach, told him that the helicopter was landing on the helipad. This was confirmed as he felt a bump below him that resonated through the aircraft, a clear indication that the landing gears had safely touched down on the helipad. The whine of the spinning rotors also died down, the pilot powering down the aircraft so that the entourage wouldn't be stepping out into a miniature hurricane generated by the massive rotor. Immediately, the Gerudo soldiers sitting in the hold with them stood up in unison, looking to Princess Zelda for a cue. She merely rose from where she sat after unfastening the safety harness by herself and stood in front of the helicopter's rear hatch, waiting for it to open. Link immediately stood to her side one step behind, Jessica took the other side two steps to the rear, while the Gerudo soldiers formed a perfect square around them. Judging by Zelda's lack of interest at this formality – lack of reaction, as a matter of fact – Link guessed the princess had probably gone through such protocol many times before on her diplomatic trips to Gerudo.

A green light lit up beside the hatch, and the platform lowered itself onto the ground, providing a ramp from the helicopter to the helipad. In perfect tandem, the entourage of seven stepped out of the aircraft, and it was then that Link suddenly noticed that Zelda no longer seemed sleepy or tired. Instead, her posture was completely erect even as she walked down the steps of the ramp. Despite the fact that her hair was frizzled and her dress a bit of a mess, she still managed to seem as regal and dignified as any Hylian royal should be, a princess with her escort about to meet the head of state of another nation. Her eyes were not clouded, but clear and alert. The transformation had been instant and complete, and Link realized that, not for the first time, he had underestimated Zelda's willpower and resilience.

Although it was night, the helipad lights were bright enough to provide the area with sufficient illumination. As Zelda stepped off the helicopter, flanked immediately by Link, they saw before them an assembly of Gerudo soldiers lined on both sides, creating a road from the helipad to the interior of Fort Garuda, and, as soon as the princess made her first step onto the helipad proper, they immediately snapped to attention with a smart salute with coordination worthy of a parade ground. They were all female – not at all surprising in Gerudo – and they were dressed in a neat mixture of black-and-red ceremonial uniforms and the tan-and-red combat fatigues of their nation, matching well with their tan complexion.

By no means was the reception restricted to Gerudo soldiers. Frantic movement right in front of Link and Zelda attracted their attention, and the princess had little time to react when she suddenly found herself in the arms of her chief of staff, who had been standing at the fortress end of the helipad but made her way forward as soon as her eyes saw for true that Zelda was alive, well, and had safely made it to Garuda. The sweeping sense of relief had completely thrown formality out the window, and Impa found herself shaking even as she wrapped what seemed to be a blanket around Zelda, keeping her warm in the cool desert night. With a slightly embarrassed but equally relieved smile, the princess, despite the stoic onlookers, managed to return that embrace. It was clear that Impa had not expected to see Zelda again.

Behind Impa, Leonore, unlike the princess' chief of staff, managed a calm walk as opposed to Impa's brisk jog, but her expression, too, betrayed subtle shock that cast strange lines, curves, and shadows in ways that were alien to her features; one did not take the DJI by surprise very often. Instead of looking upon Zelda, however, Leonore first settled her line of sight on Link as she stared at him with an expression Link could not read – what was it, disbelief mixed in with bewilderment mixed in with concern mixed in with paranoia mixed in with relief? He honestly wasn't sure. He could never tell with Leonore, who refused to take her eyes off him for several seconds…until she suddenly dropped that expression and smoothly transitioned to a tired smile, nodded in a manner that almost seemed like a silent way of conveying approval and admiration.

Link returned that nod in a likewise manner. Compliments were difficult to earn from the fourth director of Joint Intelligence…which was why Link accept every sign Leonore would offer him.

While Leonore respected a polite distance between herself and an emotional moment between Zelda and Impa, she was soon joined to the side by a figure, someone Link had seen many times on photographs before, but never actually met in person.

Generalissimo Ganondorf was easily the largest and tallest individual standing on the helipad. A dark-skinned, well-built man, he easily could easily dominate any crowd with his natural size, and yet it was not only his height and build that allowed him to stood out, but a dignity that rivaled Zelda's own even as he patiently waited for the princess with a serious, expressionless face. His flaming red hair was pulled back by a traditional metallic Gerudo headband, and his eyebrows and beard were quite thick and rich. It was clear that, although the generalissimo was well into his fifties, his physical prowess and fitness still rivaled his considerable intellect; his black-and-red ceremonial full dress uniform, complete with stripes, epaulettes, and cape, was devoid of medals or campaign ribbons, but complemented with a set of ceremonial battle armor – constructed from high-quality metal and leather – across the chest and the hips. Link could only imagine the discomfort of wearing that around…and carrying a large ceremonial broadsword on a sash by his side.

Then, again, knowing his briefing files on Ganondorf and the military exploits he had personally led in the past, Link wondered just how "ceremonial" the generalissimo's sword was…and how deadly it would be if he decided to use it with lethal intent.

It was only after Zelda finally detached herself from Impa that Ganondorf stepped forward to the Hylian delegation, his demeanor regal and proper. Seeing the approaching generalissimo, Zelda took one step forward to meet the leader of Gerudo. "Generalissimo," she greeted him courteously, even as she extended a gloved hand to the imposing man. Per tradition, he gently took the delicate hand and raised it to his lips as a means of courteous greeting.

"Princess Zelda," Ganondorf's voice was appropriately deep, but soothing and smooth, and he bowing his head in a gesture of goodwill. "Welcome back to Garuda. I am profoundly relieved to see that you are alive and unharmed, and embarrassed that I had nothing to do with your safe arrival."

Zelda shook her hand as she retracted her hand. "Please don't be. I am aware of the destruction that has also fallen upon your nation; I'm grateful that you have come to receive me personally when you must be preoccupied as commander-in-chief of the Gerudo armies."

"Then you will have to excuse the haste in which I must arrange for your stay, your Highness. I'm afraid the dilemma at hand still requires much attention. Valentine forces have momentarily lost their momentum, and I want to put efforts into placing down a strong defense to prevent further penetration. I hope you can understand the situation."

"Of course, generalissimo," Zelda responded with a courteous nod. "Please do what you must, and attend to pressing matters first, although I must ask that I am let in-the-know on the current state of the war…" she allowed a pause to draw out for the purpose of emphasis before finishing, "…both in Gerudo and Hyrule."

"Naturally," Ganondorf reassured her with a slight bow of the head, then turned his attention to Jessica, who still stood dutifully behind and away from attention as the official representative of MICO in this delegation. "Major, escort her Highness to the state guestroom, and send for a doctor immediately. Make sure her needs are attended to. I'll leave responsibility of the princess to you."

Again, Link noticed that Jessica put effort into remaining stoic and expressionless. "Yes, generalissimo," she responded with a sharp salute, and stepped close to the princess' side. Link wondered at possible reservations or dissatisfaction that might be plaguing the intelligence major, although he was not quite able to come to a satisfactory conclusion as to what Jessica might be hiding. He looked at Leonore – who Link knew was better at reading people than he – for a sign, hoping that any expression she might have adopted may help shed some light on Jessica's motive, but, unfortunately, Leonore seemed oblivious…or merely pretended not to notice. Link somehow felt the latter was more likely.

In the meantime, Ganondorf politely gestured towards the helipad entrance to Fort Garuda. "Please, princess," he stepped aside, allowing Zelda and her Hylian subordinates to move forward first before falling into stride with the princess, the full armed escort following suit one step later.

"What's the situation at the front so far?" asked Zelda as they moved towards the fort entrance, making sure that Ganondorf was keeping in stride and within earshot.

Ganondorf was blunt and honest with his answer. "Not good. Our defensive forces stationed at the border provinces were inadequate in stopping the Valentine offensive, and enemy forces have made significant progress in their invasion. The majority of our defensive forces suffered heavy casualties. One day of fighting gave us enough time to recall and prepare all our military forces – those on standby as well as the reserve army, plus the border guard and anyone we can spare in the law enforcement agencies – in our current attempt to hold the line and establish fortifications, but we still require another day or two to properly mobilize and deploy all forces across the nation for a coordinated strategic defense, never mind a counteroffensive."

Zelda understood Ganondorf's difficulties; although he was generalissimo, commander-in-chief of all Gerudo military forces, the Gerudo Union was, in fact, a tight alliance of various states and provinces under different civil leaderships…leaderships that had a degree of autonomous powers. Despite their overwhelming military power, Gerudo did not excel in rapid deployment of their military assets; national coordination has always been a weak point of their armed forces.

"I have, unfortunately, not been actively communicating and coordinating with Hylian forces," Ganondorf admitted as he moved onto what he knew of the Hylian side of this war. "They have initiated communications on a handful of occasions, but electronic interference has been heavy. It appears that enemy penetration has gone deeper into Hyrule than it has Gerudo. I know not the status of your army – although I fear there may not be any good news to bear in that department – but I have received word that the esteemed Hylian navy has barely managed to achieve parity in the north."

That was one piece of good news in a sea of disaster, pun not intended. "Anything that can shed light on the strategic goal of the enemy?" Zelda inquired. "I'm assuming you've found the Valentine strategy baffling."

"Baffling in that they seem to be ignoring all long-term strategic advantages in favor of complete wanton destruction, yes," the generalissimo concurred. "We have no clue of what Valent is after, although our forces have managed to capture a small handful of Valentine prisoners of war that we're transporting back here for immediate intensive interrogation right now." He took a deep breath. "Based on on-site preliminary analysis from MICO field liaisons, though, we have little reason to be optimistic where gaining vital information from them is concerned."

Nodding, Zelda noted that they finally passed through the archway, stepping past the barrier between fortress interior and the helipad. Whereas the design for Hyrule Palace was based on the concept of ethereal tranquility, Fort Garuda seemed to pursue elegant antiquity. The hardened and harsh exterior masked the tradition kept inside the building housing the executive center of Gerudo; candles were favored over electric in many places, and the walls was adorned with elegant ornaments and designs in a style that seemed to have been kept in place since the previous century. One could live in relative comfort here, and Zelda was certain Generalissimo Ganondorf did.

"Now, if you will please excuse me, your Highness," Ganondorf made a bow as he prepared to leave with his own private escort, presumably to his control center where he would be able to continue to oversee and coordinate nationwide military efforts, "this is where I must take my leave." He gestured to Jessica, who nodded smartly behind Zelda. "Major Jessica will take care of your needs."

"Thank you for your hospitality, generalissimo," Zelda permitted herself her own half-bow, the inclination of her head conveying gratitude. "Please keep me informed of any developments, generalissimo, regardless of the hour."

A touch of concern, barely noticeable by those who have yet to learn the finer details of hiding one's emotions in a political poker game, graced upon Ganondorf's hard features for a moment as he turned to face Zelda. "With respect, your Highness, you have just been through a very rough experience, escaping from the clutches of the enemy in Hyrule City, escaping from the clutches of the enemy in Hyrule City. Would it not be safer to rest first? A ruler cannot lead by willpower alone."

For all the chivalry Ganondorf could've intended to be in that sentence, Zelda felt as though the last remark had somehow struck the wrong chords within her, and she couldn't help but respond with a polite but ultimately thin smile. She did not like any indicator, real or imagined, that she needed to be taught how to be a leader or run her country. "I assure you that I'm quite fine," Zelda voice was still kind and formal, but a strange tone to it made Link highly alert and concerned of his princess' mood. "I've been uninjured, and have had enough time to rest. I will, of course, accept your generous offer of a doctor, but I intend to act in full capacity as soon as possible."

Subtly, the flicker of concern was gone, replaced by the reputed calm and neutral expression Ganondorf was known for. "Of course, your Highness," he gave another bow, to excuse both possible impudence and give himself leave to attend to military matters. With the formalities over, Ganondorf briskly turned around, his cape swirling around him once as he completed a one hundred eighty degree turn, and marched off with two accompanying soldiers towards another wing of the fort.

With the generalissimo gone, Jessica swiftly stepped forward – her motions swift and abrupt to break the awkward moment between two leaders that severely outranked her – taking center stage as she gestured towards another wing with a subdued sweeping motion of her arm. "Your Highness," she spoke softly, politely, expressionlessly, "your room is this way. If you would please follow me." Zelda offered a brief nod and a small smile to Jessica, following the MICO major even as she herself was followed by Link, Impa, and Leonore. Two armed Gerudo soldiers swiftly brought up the rear.

Walking through the spacious, well-lit hallways, Zelda turned her head slightly, allowing Leonore to meet her gaze. "Director Leonore," the princess spoke soothingly, perhaps the first time she had used a generous voice towards the head of Joint Intelligence, and a small smile drew itself across pale lips, "thank you for bringing Impa safely to Garuda. I wouldn't know what I would do without my chief of staff."

Behind Leonore, Impa stifled a smile; Leonore offered a tired chuckle instead. "Think nothing of it, your Highness. I'd hardly take credit for bravery and valor; being caught along with her by a massive invasion army was a pretty good incentive to move quickly."

Smiling in earnest, Zelda added another question that had been tugging at her. "How did you get here?" She had thought that, with the speed they had been traveling at, they would've reached Garuda first.

It was Impa who responded in Leonore's place, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Leonore managed to hijack a Valentine humvee, and we managed to get out of the city relatively undeterred."

Raised eyebrows and a glance towards Link were the only indicators that foretold Leonore's turn to speak. "Judging by the fireworks on the other side of the city – undoubtedly caused by a young Joint Intelligence agent who shall go unnamed – I guess we have you to thank for diverting the enemy's attention." She sounded greatly amused, and Link suppressed what would've otherwise been an annoyed grimace as he struggled against an urge to look pointedly away and remain stoic. He wasn't sure if Leonore was poking fun at him or not…nor was he sure he particularly like that feeling, being teased like a child by one's superior.

"We kept going southeast until we ran into Gerudo forces fighting just past the border," Impa finished, oblivious to Link's discomfort. "They managed to bring us here with an airlift with all due haste earlier this afternoon. Just by looking at you, I'm guessing your journey was far more adventurous."

Managing a smile mixed in with both fatigue and awkwardness, Zelda quipped, "Like you wouldn't believe." Again, Link, listening in to the conversation, fought down the urge to make a face.

There were a few grand staircases that the entourage had to navigate before they finally reached the elevators somewhere that seemed deeper within Fort Garuda. Security details seemed lighter than Zelda remembered them; most soldiers that could be spared were probably already redeployed to the front, after all. For their lack of numbers, though, the princess noted that they were most certainly more heavily armed. Submachine guns were replaced by assault rifles, patrols seemed more vigilant, and they were also carrying grenades.

"We seem to be headed deeper for the mid-levels, major," Zelda noted to the Jessica, having taken notice of their ascent up various staircases and the increasing lack of windows or openings to the outside world. The group stepped into an elevator that seemed to be as large as the car of a cargo elevator, and, after Jessica pressed the up button, the doors closed and the elevator car began to climb.

"Yes, your Highness," Jessica confirmed with a formal nod, making sure her head was politely turned towards the princess even as she waited for the elevator to reach its proper destination. "It's where all the fort diplomatic residences are, along with the generalissimo's quarters. It's further away from ground level, so it puts some distance between the suites and a potential ground attack. Not so high, however, that it's vulnerable to air strikes and missile attacks, should they manage to penetrate our anti-air defenses. The entire area is heavily armored and can withstand a direct hit from an artillery barrage or a missile strike. It falls under three overlapping security sections, and has direct access to elevators that bring VIPs directly to the command and control bunker situated deep underground, should it become necessary."

The princess smiled as the elevator made a pleasant chiming sound as a prelude to the opening of the metallic, ornate double doors. "Sounds very impressive."

Jessica nodded impassively, stiffly, guided the entourage out of the elevator after the door fully opened. "We do our best to ensure the safety of our dignitaries, your Highness."

"Then I assure you that I'm feeling relieved already," Zelda replied kindly, following in stride two steps behind. Taking note of his princess' tone, Link wondered if Zelda had noticed that Jessica was trying hard to be formal and impassive, and was reacting to it…and suddenly realized that Jessica might not be unenthusiastic or indignant as much as she was nervous and uncertain of having to deal with a foreign sovereign. Majors in military intelligence, after all, generally did not often deal with highly-ranked officials outside their own communities. Understandable, of course, considering just how short-staffed Gerudo probably was at the moment.

The hallways here were notably smaller but more ornate, and radiated a homely charm despite its relatively dim lighting. Its architecture resembled the palaces of old, complete with stone walls and fanciful engravings. If there was any further doubt that this was the diplomatic suites area, they were soon dispelled as, some length down the corridor and a single turn later, Major Jessica opened a set of double doors – the Gerudo soldiers took posts on both sides of the hallway and stood guard – revealing a rather elegant, spacious bedroom inside that was not at all unlike a hotel suite. The parlor of the suite was large enough to hold a small staff meeting in considerable comfort and was stocked full with amenities, and Zelda had no doubt that the connecting bedroom would be any less impressive. It wasn't quite was grandiose as the luxurious, stylish suites in Hyrule Palace, but it certainly made the princess feel almost as if she had stepped into someone's home.

"Please rest here for now, your Highness," Jessica allowed for Zelda, Impa, and Leonore to step through even as she and Link held open the double doors for her in perfect flanking tandem. "I shall return with a doctor shortly. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask any member of staff here."

Again, Zelda gently and graciously smiled. "Thank you, major," she conveyed her gratitude, and Jessica responded with a dutiful nod before stepping away, undoubtedly to escort the doctor up to the quarters.

Link looked back out to the hallway; now that the princess was safely in her room, the escorting soldiers were replaced with actual armed patrols that seemed to be part of the detail formally responsible for security on the floor. They took rounds across the area instead of standing immediate guard, and their formation seemed a bit loose, but the soldiers here also wore heavier body armor and bore what seemed to be heavier assault rifles. They obviously took local security quite seriously.

With a fleeting glance that made sure his three superiors were properly situated in the room, Link prepared to close the double doors and stand guard outside himself, but he had just closed the first door and had the second halfway shut when a gentle hand placed itself on the frame, and Link immediately stopped in slight surprise as Zelda stood at the door, looking out at him. "It's alright, Link," she nodded quietly, gesturing for Link to enter. "Please come in."

That was a rather surprising move, Link conceded; he had only lately become used to giving the princess her personal space, especially when it came to her study and private quarters – habits of ensuring a VIP's safety had been engrained into his head and were hard to shake, something that he knew annoyed Zelda. Now that he had managed to adapt to her tendencies and preferences, though, being invited in was a somewhat strange sensation. Regardless, he nodded obediently, and stepped through the gap in the door before closing and locking it behind him. With no further orders, he stood at the door while folding his hands behind his back, standing at attention.

Zelda, meanwhile, sat herself down on one of the living room couches, exhaling a sigh as she finally rested herself on something soft. She noted with some amusement the disapproval on Impa's gaze, a gaze that Zelda followed to the hems, edges, and corners of her dress, which had been stained, dirtied, and damaged across a day of riding on motorcycles and helicopters. Still, she swiftly pushed it to the back of her mind; concern should not be placed on how Zelda was dressed right now. "What is that status of the Hylian defense right now?" she came straight to the point as Impa and Leonore followed her, still remaining standing.

Impa pursed her lips before speaking. "Your Highness, Ganondorf has a point; these matters can wait after you've seen a doctor and get some rest…"

"Impa," Zelda was clearly impatient as she interrupted her chief of staff scornfully with a frown, "I don't intend to sit by and watch Valent tear Hyrule apart. These first few days are the most crucial. I intend to make as much of it as possible, especially since I've already been delayed by a day."

Zelda had barely finished, however, when she noticed that Impa was not actually looking at her. Rather, although Impa's head was turned towards Zelda, her eyes looked discreetly in the direction of Leonore. The princess followed that gaze, and as soon as Zelda and Leonore locked stares, Leonore silently mouthed four words: "The walls have ears."

Being lip-readers, both Zelda and the further-away Link understood immediately what Leonore was talking about. It was naïve to think that nations would unconditionally put honor before reason, and they were both well aware that the guestrooms have a chance of being bugged in consideration for a possible edge in the international game of espionage. Leonore must've already confirmed their presence…or at least had very strong suspicions. Although Zelda herself did not know it, the guestrooms in Hyrule Palace were equipped with the same kind of bugging and recording equipment, a legacy left to the royal family by Leonore's Joint Intelligence director predecessor.

For now, though, the message was clear: No sensitive information was to be spoken of. No codes, no protocols, no classified intelligence. They would go along, pretend that they didn't know the devices were there, pretend that they didn't know better.

Taking a breath, Impa pretended to be frustrated member of staff regretfully relenting to Zelda's adamant demands. "Very well, your Highness," she breathed heavily voice, turned to the other woman in the room. "Leonore?"

Leonore's expression and voice was appropriately grim; she did not exaggerate her mood for the sake of possible secret surveillance, nor did she need to. "We're looking at a disaster so far, your Highness," her voice was tight and controlled, knowing just how bad this update was. "The Hylian military – what's left of it – has been completely mobilized, but without central command at the Haven, we're looking at patches of undefended regions, general confusion. So far, from what we've been able to find out in Garuda, Rear Admiral Chester on the _HRS Astraea_ is the highest-ranking officer attempting to circumvent the Haven's command system and reroute the national chain of command to his vessel, but…" Leonore sighed, rubbed the bridge of her nose in a clear sign of fatigue and frustration. "Everything has become a total mess, your Highness. Chester's not the only officer attempting to establish national command, and I don't think these various commanding officers are even aware of each other trying to do the same thing."

Her expression appropriately grim, Zelda asked, "Any chance we can contact them?"

"Communications have been substandard at best. The enemy has been using electromagnetic interference to their advantage very heavily."

"We've been lent a communications suite by the generalissimo," Impa added. "People drop on and off the radio every now and then, never staying on for any extended periods of time."

Looking at Impa for a moment, Leonore almost seemed to look as if she was seeking the unspoken opinion of a second party, but when Impa did not pick up the sign and give Leonore and real sign of support, the intelligence director merely pursed her lips and spoke in a tight, quiet voice. "Your Highness," her tone was deliberately devoid of emphasis, "we need to talk very seriously about the possibility of a traitor."

Her eyes widening for just a moment before tightening into a clear frown, Zelda remained silent even as she turned her attention squarely to Leonore. She was not entirely surprised to learn of this – Zelda had recognized the possibility was not at all a small one – but now that Leonore was mentioning it herself, it began to seem like a substantial problem…one she was not at all eager to have to deal with.

Seeing that Zelda was waiting for her to continue, Leonore went on with her explanation. "As far as I can make out, Valentine wartime intelligence has been extraordinary on the Hylian front. They're hitting fast, hard, and accurately. As far as I can make out from battle reports on both sides, they seem to know exactly where our forces are and how they're deployed."

"It also explains how they managed to sneak up on the capital that quickly and effectively," Impa added swiftly, "and why Hylian resistance has been so difficult to mount. Valent is destroying resisting forces before they can even become a threat, and they're doing a very good job at it."

"It's only been the first day of fighting, yet our forces have been very seriously battered. This goes beyond wartime intelligence; the enemy is capable of tracking our forces in real-time, your Highness. And it's no coincidence that Gerudo forces have been holding out better than our own. Someone in a position of knowing exactly how our military forces are deployed may very well be feeding vital intelligence to Valent."

Zelda's expression turned even harder than before. "You suspect Admiral Francis." It was difficult to tell whether or not she actually approved of this line of thought, but it was clear that she did not like what she was hearing.

An effort to adopt a neutral expression was clear on Leonore's face as she betrayed signs of inner conflict with her judgment. "Admiral Francis is in a position of suspicion, yes," she spoke slowly with obvious hesitation, "but I wouldn't be able to condemn him with any real conviction. He has…unique circumstances that make him a prime suspect, yes, but there's no real proof that he's done anything in particular."

That argument was not good enough for Zelda, not with what was at stake. "But what you're saying is," she mimicked Leonore's tone and pacing, "without rooting out the mole – or _moles_ – in our ranks, any attempt we make at commanding the Hylian army may be sabotaged by their ability to track our every move."

Leonore's sober, regretful response was preceded only by a deep sigh. "That's an accurate summary, your Highness," she allowed.

What essentially comprised of Hylian high command in this room exchanged very difficult looks as they tried to assess the situational odds – clearly one that was stacked against them – before them. Options began to run through their collective thoughts, but there wasn't a solution that surfaced, not one that could immediately deal with just how terrible their situation was, however. Zelda hated that feeling of complete helplessness; she needed to do _something_, even if there was no clear and immediate solution, and yet the fates seemed to be conspiring against her.

"Do what you can about finding the mole, Leonore," the princess finally spoke evenly, firmly, keeping her temperament under control as she gave her orders. "Impa, I want you to keep trying to reach any Hylian forces you can. I want to be able to coordinate them and let them know I am safe. In the meantime, I will need to see how willing the generalissimo is in terms of allowing joint command of the counteroffensive. If we cannot command the Hylian military as we wish right now, we will have to depend on Gerudo."

"Yes, your Highness," the royal chief of staff and the director of Joint Intelligence responded in unison.

Zelda lowered her head with a barely audible sigh, and, for a moment, her own royal mask faltered for a moment, exposing just a flicker of vulnerability…but she soon had it under control as she turned to her retainers once more. "Do we have any word on my father?" she asked; her voice, though strong, betrayed just a bit of a waver.

Noting that moment of weakness, Impa and Leonore exchanged a glance, silently deciding who was to break the news. After a moment, it was Leonore who spoke. "No, your Highness. The last time we've heard of him was back in Hyrule City. Nothing else so far."

Nodding, Zelda quietly pursed her lips as her gaze lowered again in that same motion. The pressure, worry, and anxiety must've felt overwhelming as she clasped her hands on her lap, tightening them once as she fought for control over her emotions. "They may be going dark," she spoke in a controlled voice, forcing all the weakness out of her voice as she did so. "They might be aware that Valentine forces are tracking them, and imposed radio silence."

Leonore could only nod. "It's possible, your Highness."

Once again, the room lapsed into contemplative and considerate silence as the three non-royals carefully averted their gaze from the princess, not wishing to seem imposing during a private moment of vulnerability. This, however, last for only several seconds; the quiet was interrupted by the three successive knocks on the double doors, followed by the familiar voice of Jessica on the other side. "Princess Zelda? The doctor is here."

With an affirmative nod from Zelda, who immediately gathered herself together once more and donned the mask of an unshakeable princess, Link unlocked the double doors, opening it even and standing at the opening, acting as a shield for the occupants inside just in case the people outside were not who they were supposed to be. Thankfully, the precaution was unnecessary; stoic Jessica was standing right outside, and Link could see the doctor over her shoulder. Amusingly enough, the doctor had a skin tone that was slightly darker than that of the MICO major's. He stepped aside as Jessica mimicked the movement, and the doctor stepped into the room. Jessica, however, did not follow, opting to remain outside the room.

"Your Highness," the doctor introduced herself, giving a bit of a curtsy as she did, "I'm Doctor Taylor. I'm just going to perform a quick check-up on you, make sure you're in good health and won't be in danger of collapsing from fatigue anytime soon. I am told the day has been very rough on you." There was something about her that conveyed that she was a woman who meant business, and took things very directly.

Smiling, Zelda invited the doctor to come closer with a subdued gesture as she stood in polite greeting. "I believe myself to be fine, but I feel reassured in your care."

"You're too generous," Taylor spoke blandly while approaching with her medical bag; here was a woman who cared little for anything outside the medical well-being of others. "If you do not mind, your Highness, I must note that this might be more efficient – and easier on both of us – if you were to partially disrobe." She immediately shot a look at Link, clearly an indicator that he should be leaving the room now.

Link himself looked at Zelda for permission first, who gave her approval for him to leave the room. "It's fine, Link," she reassured him, then turned her attention to her chief of staff. "Impa, as we've discussed, please try to contact Hylian forces, and inform me the moment you establish a clear line of communication."

Impa bowed out before headed for the doorway, and Leonore seemed to be prepared to do the same. "Yes, your Highness. My room is the first door on the right, should you need me for anything."

While Leonore prepared to join Link and Impa out the door, however, a call from Zelda stopped the director in her tracks. "Leonore," the princess asked in a move that drew curious stares from the Hylians present, "could you please stay behind?"

Leonore seemed subtly surprised – her interactions with the princess had not given her the impression that Zelda was particularly fond of dealing with Hyrule's fourth DJI – but she politely turned around and nodded nonetheless as she was privately kept behind. "Of course," she replied and returned to Zelda's side. She gave Impa and unreadable glance, but whether or not Impa picked up on it was not certain; the chief of staff merely nodded at the development, and, with Link, walked out the double doors.

Being the last one standing at the door after Link and Impa disappeared into the hallway, Jessica prepared to leave even as she reminded Zelda of the services available to her. "Being tasked with your security and well-being, I will be in the immediate vicinity if you need me, your Highness," she spoke clearly and dispassionately, as she always seemed to do.

"Thank you, major," Zelda thanked Jessica before the major disappeared behind the set of doors she closed.

Under the expectant looks of Doctor Taylor, Zelda swiftly made her way into the connecting bedroom even as Leonore and Taylor patiently waited for her in the other room. While she kept the door open so that she may speak to Leonore, she stood in the room at an angle to the doorway where neither woman in the living room could see her.

Both Leonore and Taylor had seated themselves in the living room when Zelda called out to the former. "Please tell me more about Agent Link."

Something about Leonore's expression betrayed unwelcome surprise as she pressed her lips into a thin line, her brows tightened into what could've either been a frown of confusion or disapproval. "What would you like to know about him, your Highness?" she asked, keeping her voice level and emotionless.

Without actually seeing Leonore's expression, Zelda was not actually able to detect anything strange from Leonore's controlled voice. "Where he comes from might be a good start."

Leonore spared a glance at Taylor, who seemed to be busier than necessary with her medical bag. Chances were that she was tuned sharply into this conversation, but was otherwise pretending not to. The director wasn't surprised; the extended time Jessica took bringing Taylor here probably also included instructions to report back on any details she might notice while treating Zelda. Friends, after all, were not permanent in the political game; only interests were. Leonore would've instructed any of her agents to do the same thing had the situation been reversed…probably. "Are you aware of the Spencer Welfare Program?" she asked, deciding it didn't really matter whether or not Taylor was here.

It took only a moment for Zelda to recall the details. "It was a program initiated by my great-grandfather after Hyrule successfully claimed the ore rich regions of the Death Mountains. With an extra surplus in funds from the ore and a stronger economy from the war, he enacted the welfare program to provide government support to orphans who lost a parent or both parents in the war. The country paid for the living expenses and educational costs for these orphans, the curriculum specifically targeting civil service subjects such as political science, economics…all depending on the child. It came with the understanding that the child would work for any organ in the government after their education. As the economy strengthened, my grandfather expanded the criteria, and any orphan of Hylian citizenship became eligible as well."

Conceding that it was a good description of the program in general, Leonore decided to elaborate further. "One of the changes that we don't exactly advertise, your Highness, is that Joint Intelligence also has a hand in the program. We're legally permitted to keep track of the children and select candidates that show signs of exceptional talent, then provide them with the training that would eventually have them fall under the employ of Joint Intelligence when they are at a legal age for employment."

Zelda finally emerged from the bedroom, dressed in an elegant-looking Gerudo-styled nightgown, her hair undone and loose, hanging down to her torso. It was still frizzled from the motorcycle ride, and it was clear Zelda was in need of a bath or shower. Even as she sat down beside Doctor Taylor, she provided a frown that clearly showed she was not familiar with this aspect of the program. "Does this include combat training?" she echoed.

"Yes, your Highness."

With her attention focused on Leonore, Zelda was vaguely aware that Taylor had rolled up the princess' sleeve, pressing the index and middle fingers against Zelda's veins, a basic Gerudo traditional medicine technique that was supposed to detect the inner strength and vitality of a patient. "I was aware that we were not permitted to provide actual combat training to these orphans until they were eighteen and eligible for military service," Zelda noted.

"Yes, your Highness, _military_ service," Leonore specified, her voice carefully neutral, knowing her sovereign was not going to like the answer in particular. "It's a restriction set for the armed forces. Frankly, we're not the military. Joint Intelligence has a free hand in this."

It was clear – if not by facial expression then by tone – that Zelda did not approve of this at all. "Who signed off on this?" she demanded impatiently as Taylor reached into her medical bag, pulled out a small low-intensity flashlight.

"Your father," Leonore answered pointedly. "Just short of a decade ago."

Zelda was not impressed with the answer, but any reply she could've mounted was cut short as Taylor said, "Princess, please do not move and keep your eyes open." Zelda obeyed as the doctor shone the dim light into her eyes for a quick examination. Inwardly, the Hylian royal reminded herself that, if memory served, the decision to allow Joint Intelligence to take advantage of the Spencer Welfare Program would've been made at roughly the same time as Leonore being appointed as the fourth Hylian DJI. Zelda did not find this to be a coincidence at all.

Taking advantage of the necessity for Zelda to keep her head still, Leonore went on with her explanation of Link's background. "We found Agent Link in the Spencer Welfare Program very early, when he was eleven. That was seven years ago; he had been in the care of the government for two years at the time. He showed excellent physical prowess, above average natural intellect, and an affinity for machinery, especially vehicles." She spared a small smile. "Judging by what I've heard about your escape from Hyrule City, I'll guess you've gathered that much already. We re-appropriated him to our own training regime. He began seeing formal active duty more than half a year ago, but he's trained to the standard of an agent with roughly five years of field experience."

Taylor turned off her flashlight, spoke even as she placed the equipment back in her bag. "You're not feeling any form of discomfort, your Highness?" she asked for confirmation.

"I'm just tired, doctor," Zelda managed a tired smile. "It's been a long day."

Although the doctor did not actually seem to believe what Zelda said, she nodded nonetheless, deciding the princess knew her endurance well enough to make her own calls. "I'll trust your judgment," Taylor relented, storing her equipment back into her bag. "I'd ask for a full examination, but something tells me you wouldn't listen to me anyways. You don't seem to have sustained any serious physical problems, but you're dehydrated, and you're low on sugar. When's the last time you ate anything?"

"Major Jessica got me some rations when we managed to reach Gerudo lines."

"Before that?"

Zelda recalled the "food" that Link had taken from the abandoned gas station convenience store earlier in the morning. "I had some cookies and juice earlier in the morning and afternoon," she answered.

Disapproval was heavy in Taylor's voice. "Insufficient to cover the adrenaline rush and physical output, especially for a fragile body like yours." She placed nine small plastic bags, silver in color, on the table before them right beside the water pitcher. "These are nutrient packets. I want you to drink them with water, three times a day for the next three days, thirty minutes before each meal, not after. You can pour it in your mouth or mix it in water. Drink as much water as you can for the next three days as well."

Zelda accepted this with a curt bob of her head. "Will that be all?"

Taylor's mouth twitched once in what was essentially a difficult expression. "I'd tell you to get as much bed rest as possible, but…" she sighed, and her impassive front dropped for a moment, belaying hints of actual concern and sympathy. "I know that's impossible with what's happening to our countries, your Highness." Taylor provided a small customary Gerudo bow, a slight inclination of her head and spine to indicate not subservience, but respect. "My prayers are with you and your people."

The gesture was not unkindly, nor was it received as such; Zelda personally was quite thankful for any sympathetic gesture she could receive at this point. "Thank you, doctor," she smartly imitated Taylor's motion. "I wish the best for Gerudo as well."

Finished with packing up her equipment, Taylor stood from where she had been seated, and Zelda politely stood with her to send off the doctor; as was required of court protocol, Leonore also rose as soon as her princess did. "Please don't hesitate to ask for me should you feel any discomfort," Taylor insisted as she prepared to leave.

"I will," Zelda reassured Taylor.

Bowing again, Taylor moved to leave. "Then excuse me," she spoke, then turned around, making her way through the living room and out the set of double doors once more.

As soon as the doors closed, Leonore decided that it was better if the princess' decision was temporarily diverted elsewhere. "I think it might be a good idea to heed the doctor's advice and get some rest, your Highness," she encouraged, her voice soft, soothing, and kind. "I will, of course, vacate the room if you'd like."

Zelda's thin smile betrayed a quiet amusement that almost seemed cold. "Interesting how everyone seems to be telling me to get some rest." Her voice was not at all scathing or harsh, but it somehow still conveyed a sense of veiled impatience with her situation.

Leonore shook her head in an attempt to dissuade Zelda from any paranoid thoughts. "I'm just trying to look out for your well-being, your Highness," she tried to sound placating, and Zelda, for the first time, noted that Leonore somehow did not sound impatient for a woman not known to sugarcoat anything for or curry favor from her royal employers. It almost seemed if she was too tired to be particularly defensive…or something _else_ – Zelda somehow was not convinced that fatigue had anything to do with Leonore's sudden agreeability. "I'm pretty sure anything Link did to help you escape Hyrule City is not likely to be anything you're used to. Joint Intelligence agents pull off some of the most dangerous feats in the world with alarming frequency."

At that, Zelda's smile turned soft; indeed, Zelda was not likely to ever get on Epona again, not with Link riding it. Still, it brought another feeling of fondness for the Joint Intelligence agent, for his dedication and fearlessness when it came to his princess' safety. "The reason why I asked about Link," she said plainly to Leonore, "is that I want to thank you for assigning him to me. I don't think I would've been able to make it out of Hyrule unharmed if it wasn't for him." She reached for the pitcher on the table; it was already filled with water, so Zelda immediately reached for the crystal cups stored in the cupboard underneath the living room table.

The twitch of her lips betrayed an effort to hide a smirk on Leonore's part. "You don't need to thank me, your Highness. My only concern was your safety at the time."

Having fished out the proper glass, Zelda began to pour the contents of the pitcher into her glass. "I want you to know," she continued, "that, once this is all over, I will be formally requesting Agent Link to be part of my personal security detail. Should he have no objections to being transferred from Joint Intelligence, I will be filing the paperwork as soon as this war ends. I wanted to inform you in advance and hope you don't mind my decision."

Although Zelda's words were not unkindly – there was no bite or derision behind it – and her proposal absolutely reasonable, Leonore wondered why it was that she suddenly felt edge, uncomfortable, anxious, and…_frightened_. Still, she hid it well with a shake of a head, indicating that she did not intend to mount any form of opposition. "You're the sovereign of Hyrule, your Highness," she said simply, then mentally chastised herself as she realized just how obviously _evasive_ that remark was. Her gaze remained unwavering on Zelda, not only to prevent herself from betraying nervousness, but also to try to look for any reaction from the princess that could give hints. But Zelda was just as good as Leonore in the political poker face game, and displayed no sign that she had noticed anything amiss…which pretty much meant she _did_, but chose not to show it.

There was a moment of silence even as Zelda kept her blue eyes serenely on Leonore, breaking eye contact only after she had mixed in powder contents of the nutrient packet and slowly indulged herself on the liquid. The taste was a bit bitter; it was likely that the nutrients, ground into a fine powder, were made from a collection of rare desert herbs. From the other end of the table, Leonore silently wondered if the princess was deliberately and subtly being condescending.

It was only after Zelda finally trained the glass of its contents that she finally returned her attention to Leonore, her gestures polite and gracefully. "Thank you, Leonore," murmured Zelda. "I will heed your advice and get some rest. There's much ahead of us, and I don't want to be caught unprepared. Again, please do what you can about the mole, and don't forgo rest yourself."

The lack of actual options left Leonore giving a handsome bow even as she gave herself leave with the customary "yes, your Highness". But even while she turned around and moved to the exit, she couldn't help but notice that her heart was suddenly consumed by a strange fear and worry that she had not known was there before. Something about her conversation with Zelda, more than anything that had happened across this one-day-old war, had unnerved her, and it left Leonore shaken.

* * *

**Exoria File #006  
Gunswords**

One of the most important events in the evolution of the ballistic weapon was the drastic reduction in size of gunpowder-based ballistic weapons, which eventually transformed the arm cannon into a pistol. With the Valentine invention of the rifle, Hyrule was quick to attach bayonets to them, but Valent went the completely different direction, and ended up attaching swords to their pistols. For a while, the resulting weapon, the gunsword, was the object of ridicule of Hylian and Gerudo soldiers, who found the weapon impractical and difficult to use. Their contempt, however, was squelched when, during the Third Zoran Crusade in 1264 a.s.r., Valentine Duchess Sieglinde of Rynwall led a counterattacking army against Zoran aggressors, and utilized a gunsword to achieve an astounding two hundred and thirty-two confirmed kills credited personally to her name in the Battle of Dendrite Falls. The gunsword quickly became known as an extremely deadly and effective in the right hands, but the extraordinary difficulty in skillfully using the weapon did not make it commonplace, and proficient gunsword-wielders were few and far in between. The invention of the gunsword in Valent, however, coupled with the vast majority of gunsword wielders being of Valentine origin, effectively labeled the gunsword as a Valentine weapon. Over the years, Valent has been making numerous improvements to the gunsword, resulting in a weapon that is mechanically-powered, possessing near-instant transition from handgun to sword, with capabilities that rival both modern firearms and blades. Valentine special forces are known to possess gunswords as a standardized weapon, which they use to great effect.

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, I'm sorry, _this_ finalizes the "escape to Garuda" storyarc. I didn't actually intend to lie and make you think the story was moving forward that quickly, but this chapter ended up being much longer than I first thought. So…yeah. The next chapter with either be a breather chapter or the start of the next storyarc. We'll see how it goes.

And now Ganondorf has finally appeared on stage. I hope I got his introduction was satisfactory; he's an important character to the Zelda games, and I tried my best to ensure I got it right. He _does_ seem a bit more gentlemanly and trustworthy – if not a bit noble – than as he is depicted in the games; it's intentional, and there are reasons for it. And, no, I'm not going to tell you whether or not he's faking it. That's for you to figure out. Or wait for a revelation that may or may not come.

For those wondering, I _do_ maintain a deviantArt gallery; I do pencil sketches, then play around with them a bit on Photoshop. My latest adventures have allowed me to sketch Link in his Joint Intelligence attire. It's…not exactly a fantastic sketch – even I admit it looks a bit bland and un-Zelda-ish – but it gets the idea across. Hopefully, when Link finally gets a change of attire in the next storyarc, the sketch accompanying it will be better. I know FanFictionNet does some weird things to URLs, but the link to the sketch is: [http] ysionris [dot] deviantartcom [dot] com/art/Link-Joint-Intelligence-143452368

Also, of interest is that someone has directed my attention to the fact that _Exoria_ is now officially recommended on the TVTropes website; I was amused of this to no end, but it also makes me quite happy. The recommendation can be found here, for those curious (although please watch out for the spaces meant to circumvent 's deletion of URLs: [http] tvtropes [dot] org / pmwiki / pmwiki [dot] php /FanficRecs/TheLegendOfZelda


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

Link awoke to the sound of quiet. It was an interesting sensation, one that took many moments to notice, the realization coming only after the silence was interrupted. Fort Garuda bustled with activity, and though the war had not yet reached the Gerudo capital, Garuda spared no expense at getting the entire capital to work. Throughout the night, soldiers marched to and fro while vehicles rumbled here and there; even through windowless rooms shut deep within Fort Garuda, Link could hear – no, _feel_ – the activity that rumbled through the fort and the surrounding city, rocking him gently to sleep as he reclined on the bed provided to him in the fort diplomatic suite. Generally, security detail for a foreign sovereign were provided other rooms – perhaps in a state-affiliated hotel or military officer quarters – but the uniqueness of the situation, with Link being the princess' only bodyguard, granted him one of the nearby diplomatic suites.

Now, however, the sounds and rocking had stopped, leaving Link with the strange impression that, somehow, the world had suddenly whisked life away, yet forgotten about him. It left him with a sense of dreadful foreboding, so he quickly rose from his bed and moved to the door. So tired was he the night before that he had not bothered to take a change of clothes – only having taken off his jacket, removed his tie, and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt – before dropping into the soft caress of a soft mattress and clean sheets, and how he was dressed sleeping was exactly how he was dressed as he woke. He slipped on his shoes and tucked his gunsword into a spare belt holster before putting on his sunglasses and making his way out the room, but only after he spared the nearby grandfather clock a glance from behind heavily tinted lenses; lack of windows to see the skies outside made it difficult to guess at the time of day. The hands read six fifty-five, presumably in the morning.

He remembered how the night had ended before, being summoned by Leonore to the hallways after she had finished her briefing with Zelda. When Leonore had told Link that she had orders for him, he had straightened immediately, knowing that the circumstances demanded a new level of attention and dedication. To his surprise, however – and possibly to his irritated self-embarrassment – Leonore had grinned at Link's motion and quipped, "Yes, Link, I'm about to give clandestine orders to a Joint Intelligence agent whom everyone in the central government knows is here in a nation dominated by females of a different ethnicity. I'm sure you'll be able to covertly execute whatever top secret assignment I'm about to provide you and not attract attention. Very subtle."

Link had made a face; he never liked it whenever Leonore saw it fit to treat him like a child.

Her smirk had softened into a smile, and her words had actually surprised Link a bit. "You have a mandatory forty-eight hour leave from duty after an equally mandatory eight hour bed rest," she said seriously but serenely. "You've been through a lot, and I think all of us feel quite indebted to you for what you've managed to accomplish. There's not a lot you can do right now as a Joint Intelligence agent, and security doesn't seem to be a serious problem, so, for now, I want you to rest and recuperate. That's an order."

Now that Link actually thought about it, despite his misgivings about how Leonore liked to treat him sometimes, the woman _was_ the closest thing to a mother as anyone had ever gotten. She had looked out for him since he was transferred from the state-run orphanage to Joint Intelligence's secret training program through the Spencer Welfare Program, and although Leonore had hundreds of other people to take care of, she still managed to somehow seem close with him. Of course, never _that_ close and not _him_ in particular – their respective professionalism never allowed that – but there was a great sense of gratitude and respect for the woman who was capable of treating him both as a valuable agent and a young adult; no one else in his growth really managed to accomplish both, and, honestly speaking, Leonore was someone very special in Link's life.

Not that he'd ever actually tell that to Leonore.

Still, he had the fact that the corridors were empty and deserted to deal with. Stepping out of the doors of his room, he noticed that he could neither see nor hear any of the patrols that were supposed to be guarding this area, a serious concern, considering that he had been reassured by Jessica only yesterday that the diplomatic suites fell under the purview of three different security sections. It had only been yesterday, after all, that Link had traversed the nothingness of the continent with Zelda, looking for anyone for answers, but finding that the great expanse had been abandoned by all but the enemy. The inability to immediately see anyone, therefore, was unsettling to Link, who immediately undid the strap of his holster to facilitate a quicker draw should the need arise. He did not immediately draw his gunsword, but he made sure the safety switch was off.

Vaguely remembering that there seemed to be a reception area in front of the elevators where they had rode in from, Link moved in the general direction, and his fears were dispelled as he finally managed to find the area. Sitting behind the counter was a Gerudo sergeant, fully armed and with a cache of military-grade weapons in the shelves below at her disposal should the need to use them arise. Like most in her outfit, she wore an abridged version of the tan and red khakis of Gerudo's army, exposing the arms and some of the midriff. Had the average person not understood Gerudo's climate and how stifling some indoor areas could be without proper air conditioning, one would've thought that these uniforms were used for fashion modeling, not soldiering.

Noticing Link's approach, the sergeant offered him a polite nod as she sat up straighter; on top of him being a guest of a foreign chain of command, Link was an agent and not actually a ranked military officer, making it difficult to discern who had a higher paygrade, so the inclination of the head was offered instead of a salute. It presented utmost respect, but not deference. "Good morning, agent," she greeted using the generic title for Link, and spared his unbuttoned shirt a look longer than was really necessary.

He emulated the same motion – without the equally long stare, anyhow – then gave a revealing look around, clearly concerned of the lack of patrols in the area. Obviously, something wasn't extraordinarily wrong, not if someone reasonably calm was left here, but the absence of strict security measures was somehow…worrisome.

Noting and understanding Link's appraisal of the situation, the sergeant quickly explained, "It's time for the morning prayer. We take ten minutes out of every day, from six fifty-five to seven-oh-five, for it. Most of the soldiers and staff in the area go to their respective prayer rooms, but there's always someone left out here to maintain watch. You don't need to worry about security measures."

Link somehow found reason to doubt that. He knew about the morning prayer – it wasn't his first time in Gerudo – but he didn't actually expect this to extend to active fortress staff. It seemed as if security was significantly dropped at a predictable time and manner every day. From a number of armed patrols to a single sergeant manning the reception area? Even for ten minutes, it was far too risky, considering what was at stake. This was something he was going to have to consult his superiors with, both Leonore and Zelda.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted at the sudden opening of a door to the side, resulting in a rather violent bang as a figure quickly rushed out from within. Link acted upon reflex, and his hand was already on the grip of his handgun when he suddenly realized that the sergeant did not seem alarmed at all, that the door led to one of the security offices on the floor, and that he actually recognized the figure that had burst from the office. Both Link and Jessica froze as they locked eyes, both with a certain amount of surprise. Well, Link conceded, Jessica did not seem as surprised as she seemed _flustered_. For one thing, it seemed almost clear that she had just woken up and was in a rush; her hair was a tangled mess which she was in the middle of attempting to tie into a ponytail, a hair band was held between her lips as she tried to gather her hair into said ponytail with both hands, and the upper portion of her white MICO robes were loose and trailing behind her, only donned halfway. The robes themselves were only secured around the waist, covering the lower half of the body with what was effectively a long, red, pleated dress which Link recognized as formal wear for MICO agents when not acting as field liaisons.

Otherwise, though, the only thing standing between Link's gaze and Jessica's bare upper body was a long strip of thick cotton cloth sarashi wrapped around her from the midriff to the chest.

Jessica blinked, and it was only after Link copied the motion that she finally snapped into relative awareness.

"A-A-Agent Link!" she gasped even as her relatively light cheeks turned a shade of crimson, and her hands abruptly dropped to her side in what was almost a reflexive motion to a formal stance, the hair band between her lips dropping to the ground as she spoke. Realizing the blunder, she moved to bend down to pick the band up, but she had completed the downward motion halfway when she seemed to suddenly realize that there was an immediate lack of upper body clothing properly donned on her, and, with what was clearly a flustered yelp, she almost took a small leap back as she wrapped her arms around her, curiously obscuring her chest, looking at Link in a way that made him feel almost as if he was some sort of predator. To say she was embarrassed was an understatement.

Link blinked helplessly. Somehow, this did not seem like the MICO major Jessica he remembered from yesterday. Perhaps he was mistaking this lady for Jessica? With the hair undone, Link might've mistaken her for someone else. No, he had recognized her voice, even if it was a shrill, flustered cry. Never mind the fact that this was a complete contradiction to how she was last night – serious and dispassionate – but even though he certainly wasn't complaining, Link wanted to ask the question as to why she was here, in a rush, disheveled, and only partly-dressed. His head told him that he should be worried – if Jessica was freaking out, this was probably something bad – but his gut feeling somehow reassured him that it was something trivial.

Gently, the Hylian agent bent down to pick up the hair band even as Jessica still froze there in clear hesitation, then just as eloquently handed the band over to her. In return, she looked at the hair band anxiously and nervously, almost as if the object in his hand was some sort of possible but irresistible bait, but, with hesitant progress, she reached out and eventually took the hair band. After shooting covert glances at the door to the security office once more – debating whether or not she should retreat back to the safe confines of another room – she eventually put the hair band back between her lips and started hastily donning the rest of her robes with frantic pacing before attempting to tie a ponytail once more; it seemed that she had come to a decision that, with the damage already done, any move otherwise might've been a further sign of impoliteness to an already disrespectful situation. In a dominantly female society, it was clear Jessica had not been expecting the presence of other males in the vicinity.

Perhaps it was due to the lack of lighting throughout the entirety of the previous night, or possibly due to the fatigue that he had been experiencing, but, with a handful of spare moments available to him, Link suddenly came upon a strange realization, one that told him that Jessica was actually much younger than he had initially thought. The serious, dispassionate demeanor in which she had carried herself last night – coupled with the MICO rank of major – had given him the impression that this was a woman who was at least half a decade older than himself, but now that he caught a much better glimpse of Jessica in strong lighting, with her hair undone and a better view of her physique, Link realized that this was most certainly not the case. A closer study of her features once more made him doubt, in fact, if Jessica had yet to reach her twenties…or if she was even _older_ than Link. Especially with her current flustered expression, the major seemed particularly young and girlish. Link wondered just how he could've missed that detail last night…and how someone this young managed to attain the military rank of major. He also wondered – now he was looking at _this_ side of Jessica – just how much he could trust her with security on the floor.

"Major," the sergeant stood and saluted after the awkward exchange, deciding that the timing wasn't going to make things more stressful than it already was. However, Link couldn't help but notice that the sergeant's salute, slightly lax and subdued, was the complete opposite to the greeting she had offered Link: Laced with deference…but almost devoid of respect. He found that oddly offsetting, for some reason he could not readily identify.

With the hair band still stuck between her lips, Jessica mumbled something suspiciously that sounded like "at ease" before, just a moment later, finishing the last folds of her robes. The sergeant sat back down impassively as Jessica finally removed the hair band from her mouth, using it to affix her hair into a ponytail. That done, she finally addressed Link; although she attempted to speak with an air of remembered dignity and seriousness, the damage had already been done, and aside from the inability to mask her blush, she now simply seemed flustered and younger than how she had presented herself the previous night. "G-Good morning, agent," Jessica made out after the initial stutter. "Are you up for the morning prayer?"

Link shook his head, noting to himself at the same time that Jessica was obviously desperate to change the topic. Anyone could tell that Link wasn't up for morning prayer, not with him incompletely dressed, wearing sunglasses, and keeping a hand close to the handle of the gunsword still tucked in his holster. That said, he finally noticed that his left hand was still hovering close to the holster…and allowed it to drop to his side. That belt holster – which he used when he wasn't using standard Joint Intelligence equipment – had been a gift from Leonore to accommodate the fact that he was one of the few left-handed agents in Joint Intelligence.

Apparently, Jessica noticed the foolishness of her question, and, flustered, dropped her gaze from Link's impassive face to his chest…then, realizing it wasn't going to work with his open shirt, dropped it down to the ground in further embarrassment. "M-My apologies, of course you aren't," she managed to make out while she fidgeted, and stopped there, looking around helplessly, uncertain as to how she was going to continue this conversation. The sergeant pointedly looked away from Jessica, and Link had a suspicion that the sergeant was only pretending not to be available for assistance.

It would be an understatement to say that Link felt sorry for Jessica and what probably was a disastrous morning. Insofar as he could make out, she had slept in the security office, woke up too late, was rushing on her way towards morning prayer while dressing and making herself presentable at the same time, and had barely managed to get halfway when she ran into Link. Deciding that it may be prudent to attempt to salvage the situation – he had the entire day to himself, anyways, and wasn't sure how else he was supposed to spend it in a foreign capital during a time of war – he made a gesture towards the elevators right behind him as he stepped aside, making way for Jessica, but also moving slowly towards the elevators himself – not so fast as to leave the major behind – in an indication that he would come along for prayer as well.

Reflex took priority over reason at Link's gesture; a combination of haste, uncertainty, and embarrassment allowed her to walk forward towards the elevator before she even thought of it. By the time she had actually thought the situation over and realized that it would probably be a bit more awkward if she did something incredibly stupid in front of Link again, he was already in the elevator beside her, the doors closing. Mouthing something silently – Link, who could read lips, was certain it wasn't Interlingua – Jessica seemed to hesitate before the buttons of the elevator before pressing the highest button on the elevator, which began to climb instantly. "I suppose it would be prudent to show you the prayer, since you seem to have the moment," she managed to say, but the major still didn't seem to have completely regained her composure, and shyly averted her gaze from Link.

Link was suddenly quite worried of possible complications between Gerudo cultural perceptions on modesty, romance, and responsibility.

It took several moments of awkward silence before the elevator doors parted, and when Link was led out, he found himself walking through a metallic hallway on the upper floors of Fort Garuda. He soon discovered that it was actually less of a hallway that it was a ramp, making sharp ninety-degree turns every now and then at the edge of the fort structure, going upwards toward the floors above. It was meters above where they had left the elevator that the ramp finally ended, and Link found himself in one of the defensive chambers of Fort Garuda. It wasn't overly spacious, but the telltale signs were present: The artillery guns lined up against the massive openings in the fort walls out towards the vast beyond were large and powerful, although the entire defense seemed to be manned only by a skeleton crew of less than half a dozen that could ensure minimal operation in case someone truly did attack Garuda during morning prayer.

Unlike the other parts of the fort, the walls here were completely made of metallic substances, no rock anywhere. The design made sense; with Fort Garuda shaped moreorless like a ziggurat, the upper, thinner portions would be more suspect to damage. Reinforcing steel beams crisscrossed the roof, provided the support that the chamber needed from the rumble of artillery guns and possible return fire. Surrounding them were tungsten artillery shells, extra guns, large industrial tools, spare parts, everything needed to maintain the guns and keep them running.

"This way," Jessica motioned for Link to follow as she continued in stride. The stability in her voice indicated that she was finally calming down, although she still did not look at Link directly. The artillery crews, dressed in crisp red work uniforms, offered salutes as they passed by, although Link noted that they spared Jessica a longer look; whether they, too, held Jessica in disdain or were merely curious of why such a young girl wore the insignia of major was anyone's guess.

It was to one of the openings in the fort walls that Jessica led Link, maneuvering around the space between wall and artillery gun. At the very edge of the artillery platform was a railing that prevented anyone careless enough from sliding down the ziggurat walls. At that very edge, though, the two commanded what was possibly the best view of the city without the aid of an aerial vehicle, having a clear view of the Garuda cityscape. It was minutes away from seven in the morning, and the sun cast rays across the city even while the skies remained a pale blue, refusing to wake and retain its azure colors just yet. From their height, Link actually commanded a decent view of the city over the inner ring of massive walls surrounding the area around Fort Garuda.

Standing right at the railing, Link did not immediately noticed that Jessica had suddenly gotten down on one knee, her head bowed and her hands clasped together, fingers intertwined. Watching her on the metallic floor, he barely saw the silhouettes of several of the engineers inside who still worked to and fro; apparently, skeleton staff maintained their roles even in morning prayer, and Link decided that these roles were probably interchanged from time to time. Jessica mouthed something that he knew was not Interlingua, which slowly grew to a murmur that was almost singsong and melodic in nature.

Then, from where he stood at the fort opening, he heard it throughout the city.

The crescendo, the rise in audible volume, had been so soft, initiated from dead silence, so Link did not immediately notice it at first. It took many seconds for him to realize that he did not hear just Jessica singing in the Gerudo language, but the population of Garuda, and the fact became evident as the echoes of voices came from the ground far below, coming from open prayer houses scattered throughout the city, a citywide choir coming together in a melodic prayer. _The Gerudo equivalent of a psalm, maybe_, Link speculated; his previous operations in Gerudo did not make it a necessity to integrate himself thoroughly to the finer points of local culture. The song wafted almost magically up to where he stood, listening, almost entranced.

It was not the first time he had heard a Gerudo prayer. He had seen tourists and foreign dignitaries perform the ritual in the past, and he was almost certain that he probably had a music disc somewhere in his apartment that had a rendition of the track. This, however, was completely different, both in sound and in scale. This was no recording, but a massive congregation of will as the entire city joined in holy prayer. The voices across Garuda did not sing on the same musical scale, each individual murmuring at a pitch one was more comfortable with – the variance was not extremely great, with most of the population being female – but that only seemed to enhance a certain sense of acoustic harmony. Jessica herself sang in a clear, crystal-like voice, almost brittle and almost child-like, taking on a higher pitch that was noticeably shriller than the general pitch coming from the city. At times, a voice rang out from various parts of the city, singing something in a louder, clearer voice in a much more rapid tempo, and the city followed those lyrics shortly afterwards at a slower pace. Link thought that perhaps the voice belonged to a prayer leader. The fact that he did not actually understand the lyrics made it that much more arcane, and that much more beautiful.

The speed at which each prayer house finished was different, and after five minutes, it slowly died out like a round of applause instead of ending abruptly. Slowly, a decrescendo took place as the song-prayer faded away, and when it did, it was followed by many seconds of dead silence, as if the air in which sound was carried had suddenly been temporarily sucked away, leaving nothing but the light howling of desert winds.

Then, just as slowly, life came back to Garuda as its heart started beating again. Moving pinpricks of color in the streets showed the reemergence of people moving out of their prayer houses and back to their morning customs. The sounds of engines, from cars and from tanks, were heard cranking up. Military boots clacked against pavement in unison as a parade detail marched by Fort Garuda below. Voices of the early market sellers calling for bargains and sales could be heard beyond the ring walls. Cars filled the streets once more. The din returned to Garuda with bustling activity as if the city had finally roused itself and went to work.

Rising from her kneeling position, Jessica exhaled deeply, opening her closed eyes, before looking at Link, having turned around to face the major; the Hylian agent's expression was subdued, he also made it clear through minimal signs that he was appropriately impressed. For the first time since Link knew her, she managed a small smile. "We pray to Dinah, our one and only true goddess, the creator of all," Jessica explained quietly, seeing minute clues that told her Link was not entirely familiar with Gerudo culture and customs. "Morning prayer is a custom we have adhered to even before the founding of the Gerudo Union."

Link wasn't surprised at all. Unlike Hyrule and Valent, Gerudo's culture had always been closely tied with its religion. He nodded, indicating the acceptance of this explanation.

It was only after a moment of hesitation that Jessica decided to allow curiosity get the better of her, and asked, "Are you religious, Agent Link?"

The pursing of his lips and a slightly conflicted expression told much. Link had never really considered himself religious; growing up parentless in Hyrule had not given him much to be optimistic about, and faith seemed to be, for him, a flimsy hope at best. He knew that a respectable portion of the Hylian population was at least lightly religious, with very few radicals in between, but he was also an academic having been offered some of the best in educational opportunities by Joint Intelligence, by Leonore herself. He knew just how fickle religion could be, and how they changed from age to age. Polytheism, such as belief in the three Golden Goddesses, was replaced over time with monotheism, such as the religion surrounding Dinah. Mythologies came and gone, with new ideas replacing the old when discoveries were made that debunked the teachings of the previous faith. Somehow, the ever-changing interpretation man had towards the heavens did not instill in Link a great deal of faith in how accurate religion was in explaining the "answers of life". And, from a historical perspective, he knew that religion had far too often been used as an instrument of population control…or as a catalyst for wars and atrocities. Link had always felt that religion bended to suit the needs of man, and not the needs of whatever deities might actually exist.

Deciding that his stance was decidedly agnostic, not atheistic or faithful, Link merely gave what seemed like a helpless shrug.

Jessica decided Link's body language was rather easy to read. "Then may you someday find the way," she bowed her head gracefully in an exaggerated nod.

Link felt that there was a great deal of subtext and hidden meanings behind that sentence, decided that the mystique behind such a statement was largely attributed by religious attitudes in Gerudo. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to "find the way", though; he personally found his current "way" perfectly fine.

The two continued to stand on the upper platforms of Fort Garuda, looking at the city and the desert beyond. Link imagined that he saw what were possibly anti-aircraft tracers and explosions in the very distant west, but he could not be sure; such a fireworks show would be easier to spot in nighttime. Further to the north, a shroud of dust blocked the horizon, indicating that a storm was brewing. Link remembered just how deadly sandstorms could be centuries ago…and how modern infrastructure and weather control had helped the Gerudo Union brave the elements of their desert lands.

Fidgeting, Jessica pursed her lips nervously beside Link before speaking softly, hesitantly. "I wish to extend my condolences to you and Princess Zelda, agent," she tried to sound as professional as she could, but Link detected a trace of hurt in it. "I…have not exactly conducted myself in a worthy fashion."

Link raised his eyebrows as he turned towards Jessica with a neutral, inquisitive look; this admission was a bit sudden.

The awkwardness of the situation caused Jessica to turn away slightly, her gaze directed towards the cityscape of Garuda rather than Link himself. "The truth is I'm…" There was hesitation there, and she had to take a deep breath before she continued with her explanation. "I'm the daughter of a ruling lord. I was placed in MICO with the rank of major through family contacts and relationships and favors…but I have actually not been here for more than half a year." She smiled wistfully, a sardonic curl of the lips with an obvious trace of sadness. "As you might imagine, my peers and comrades do not sit well with this undeserved promotion."

Uncertain of what to feel, Link's reaction was something between contempt and sympathy; an agent that had gotten his position through training and dedication, he was not necessarily fond of those who gain rank through the influence and power of others, but the subtext of Jessica's statement made it almost clear that it was not actually her choice, but the choice of her father. Or _mother_; Link reminded himself of Gerudo's demographics and how many women chose to style themselves lord instead of lady. The enmity of the rest of her office, however, was a predictable result, and he personally wondered just how well Jessica coped with this. But at least it explained her young age and how she managed to attain such a rank in MICO.

"I have never been responsible for any important persons, never mind a head of state," she continued, almost chuckling out the latter part of the statement in a melancholic manner, "but some of my superiors, those who bear a grudge against me, were the ones who made me responsible for escorting her Highness here last night. And with the generalissimo insistent that I remain in charge…" Once again, Jessica took a deep breath before she spoke; the sound of the air being expelled was worryingly brittle. "I do not know whether or not the generalissimo is also in on this."

Although the possibility was indeed there, Link somehow doubted this. Not only did he find Ganondorf not to be the type of man who pursued that kind of grudge, he didn't think that the head of state of the Gerudo Union would spend his time trying to figure out how to make the life of a young, measly major in the Military Intelligence Coordination Office miserable. Link ventured a guess that her rigidness and stiffness of the previous night was a mask over her insecurity and anxiety. For one thing, though, he now knew just how inexperienced Jessica was; he had never met any other intelligence agent who revealed those kinds of insecurities on someone else, especially someone known for less than an entire day. His resurfacing concern for the safety, security, and well-being of Zelda was only comparable by a growing sympathy for the major.

Apparently, Jessica had finally picked up that she was being a bit too open for her own good. "I-I'm sorry," she muttered, shaking her head, now looking sufficiently embarrassed as a blush crept onto her face once more. "I shouldn't be dumping this onto you. That was…inconsiderate of me…" She trailed away, as if her mind had slowly come across something more prudent, more appropriate to say, but that possibility quickly dispelled itself as Jessica shook her head and apologized again. "I'm sorry."

Link managed an awkward smile; Jessica apologized quite a bit, and it was making him feel a bit embarrassed for her. His hand came up, patted the major's shoulder twice – a motion that surprised Jessica, judging by the slight flinch she made in response – as if telling her it was okay, and he didn't mind.

In response, she managed an amused smile of her own, her eyes trained on Link in the manner of an older sister appraising the antics of a younger brother. "You don't talk much, do you?" she giggled.

If the major couldn't see Link rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses, then she certainly saw Link's expression screw up into that of a slightly sarcastic smirk, as if to say, "Oh, gee, do you _think_?"

Jessica giggled again, her voice sounding vaguely like crystal chiming off each other, before managing to straighten and providing a small, casual salute; strictly unnecessary, considering the federal employee status of Link and the officer status of Jessica making rank comparisons near impossible, but the Joint Intelligence agent didn't think the MICO major saluted out of protocol anyways. "It was a pleasure talking with you," she beamed, "but I think it's time I returned to my responsibilities of maintaining security for Princess Zelda. Shall I be taking you back down?"

Link shook his head from where he stood, still remaining by the railing; he actually rather enjoyed the view up from Fort Garuda over the rest of the city, and entertained the idea of remaining here for a good part of the morning, watching the foreign capital come to life. Jessica privately wondered if Link was one of those people who did not know how to live his life beyond the confines of the intelligence community…but chastised herself mentally for making assumptions. Besides she understood his wishes as she smiled, nodded, and left.

That, for now, was enough.

* * *

Tiredly eying the clock on the other side of the room, Zelda noted with detached indifference that the time was now nine in the morning, and exhaled as a yawn formed in her throat, her lithe body stretching on the chair she was sitting on, tipping the seat onto its hind legs just slightly when her arms came up. Hugging herself a bit after removing a large pair of headphones from her head, she sighed, closing her eyes, catching just a few seconds of reprise as her slender fingers placed the pen in between them flat on the table, temporarily ignoring the sheets of notebook paper that was accumulating on her desk with hastily scribbled notes, notes that included which Gerudo battalions were using which frequencies, where each of them were, fragmented decryptions of battle codes from both Gerudo and Valentine, practically anything they could use for reference later on. It was in her own diplomatic suite that she monitored battlefield communications across the continent with a miniature communication suite that the personnel of Fort Garuda had lent her for her attempt to communicate with Hylian forces and attempt to piece together more of the war.

She had slept for little more than an hour the night before; the war was to blame for her insomnia. It was in the suite that she sat for hours on end, listening through the earphones of armies communicating with each other, battle reports ranging from Hyrule to Gerudo. She had yet to change out of her bedrobes, and the instinctive thought of asking for breakfast to be brought to her suite was a distant one. Strangely enough, Zelda was used to this kind of abuse; long nights were not something that remained confined to wartime for the sovereign of Hyrule. The Hylian public would probably be surprised at the hours she kept on a general basis.

On the desk of the suite's living room where the communication suite was, a host of large equipment that took up over half the desk, laid another set of headphones, one that Zelda's chief of staff used to monitor communications along with her. Impa had told Zelda to rest and leave the work to the Hylian chief of staff, but Zelda knew that was not a luxury she could afford. Maybe she could've done it had she had the presence of generals or admirals or any commissioned officer in her entourage here in Gerudo…but the problem was that there was none. Impa was a royal employee, and while Leonore and Link were considered federal agents – or probably something _beyond_ federal agents – with very good intelligence over their own military forces, they were still technically not part of the military. That said, the crown princess _had_ tasked Leonore with using her sources – what remained of the DJI's hidden connections, anyhow – in an attempt to find the traitor or mole in their military forces. And as much as Zelda had come to trust Link, she did not feel that she should be burdening a field agent with administrative work. Learning that Leonore had sent him on a paid forty-eight hour leave reinforced that belief.

So that left Zelda, commander-in-chief of the Hylian armed forces, the highest ranking officer present. In fact, the highest ranking officer even if otherwise. And the crown princess was not easily deterred.

For all their efforts, however, communications on the channels were rather tame. While they had access to most Gerudo battle chatter, they spoke in battle code that Zelda was unfamiliar with, which could also be said for whatever few Valentine communiqués they managed to crack. Most of the forces in the Gerudo theater of operations had reached a stalemate, and the immediate, fierce direct fighting had subsided as Gerudo struggled to regroup and plan for more coordinated operations…which was probably the case for Valent as well. Attempting to patch into Hylian communication channels, however, was still difficult, considering Gerudo equipment certainly was not equipped with them, and Valentine electronic jamming was heavy. The static situation had permitted Zelda to relieve Impa for the moment, the princess trying to get her subordinate to catch some sleep. The latter's flat refusal, however, allowed for a concession that had Impa go assist Leonore in the attempt to locate the mole in Hyrule's armed forces. The last time she had heard from Leonore, Zelda learned that the director was attempting to locate Admiral Francis.

Zelda rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. Like it or not, she _had_ to admit that she _was_ a bit tired. Well, not just a _bit_ tired, but truly so. The truth was that the day-long escape, with only sporadic periods of rest in between, had drained her stamina, and she was already beginning to feel the numbness creeping up to her head, affecting her otherwise pristine clear train of thought. Maybe she would take up on Impa's advice after all, get some rest when she could.

Opening her eyes, the crown princess placed the earphones back on. _Yes_, she told herself dismissively. _That can come later. There is work to do now._

If there was any advantage Gerudo enjoyed in this war, it was the strength of their land-based army. Compared to both the armies of Hyrule and Valent, Gerudo had an excellently-trained infantry corps that were considered to be unrivaled when it came to land engagements. The basic infantryman – or infantrywoman, considering the Gerudo demographic – was a jack-of-all-trades, trained in unarmed combat, various firearms, vehicle operations, and machinery maintenance, with a few specialties in between. Any random infantry fireteam from Gerudo could hop into a tank at any time and drive it into combat should necessity warrant for it. Autonomous command also proved to be effective in this situation; although Gerudo did not suffer from the same disadvantage Hyrule had, a capital city located too close to the border, had Garuda fallen into enemy hands, regional armies could still put up coordinate resistance all by themselves, as it was what they were used to by principle anyways. The only immediate weakness that Zelda could immediately recall about the Gerudo army was a crippling lack of specialization; the country had only a handful of battalions dedicated to any specific battlefield role, and literally no special forces.

But that was a marginal disadvantage, so Zelda did not linger on Gerudo channels long, not when she was fairly confident that, now that a stalemate was reached, there would be no immediate danger of breakthrough. There was the fear of coordinated Valentine air strikes, of course – Valentine, in comparison, had an exceptional air force – but the Gerudo defense was a bit too far inland, making the logistics behind airborne missions strained and expensive as the distance between Valentine airbases and the main line of resistance increased. In a sense, that was also the disadvantage Hyrule had at the moment; although the strength of the Hylian navy was unmatched, it could do little to attack enemy forces too far inland…especially when they were barely achieving parity from a surprise attack by enemy naval forces. Navies were less inclined for defensive purposes anyways…especially in a campaign where the defense was of land-bound assets.

Zelda sighed again, half-heartedly skimming through the Gerudo channels to get the latest news on the situation at the main line of resistance. There were codes exchanged back and forth indicating another enemy attack, but the Gerudo voices seemed pretty calm about it. Another sweep through encrypted Valentine channels pronounced nothing this round. The fact that she couldn't receive much from Hylian channels was depressing.

A stray wish entered her head, that her parents were still with her, and that she didn't have to handle state affairs as crown princess at such an age. She would've needed to inherit the responsibilities eventually, yes, but having become the nation's sovereign only two years ago at the age of sixteen felt like it had taken so much out of her life, forced her to mature and adapt. And now that they were at war, Zelda entertained the selfish wish that both her parents were still here. Yet Queen Marsha was now buried in the royal cemetery, having died in a fatal car accident. And King Robin II had fallen into a coma two years ago after surviving a different car crash…and his whereabouts were currently unknown, him separated from his daughter by the blackout of information created by the Valentine armies in between.

Zelda found it almost laughable, the circumstances in which she gained her phobia to cars and vehicles. Her pen scratched at paper away half-heartedly; the battle reports were becoming routine, monotonous now. A staccato of booted, evenly-paced footsteps echoed from outside the door, a patrol of Gerudo soldiers walking by.

Her mind was drifting. She forcibly pulled it back, although it was admittedly difficult with there being very little across scanning the frequencies outside static. There was only so much of that kind of noise one could take before blanking out.

The radio hiccupped a bit, generated a slight increase of static before voices began to speak in Zelda's earphones again. To her interest, however, the frequency was of Valentine origin this time, the signal barely encrypted. She isolated the feed, clicking a button to make sure the communications suite remained on this signal. The rapid-fire exchange amongst the voices, all of them – Zelda counted five different voices – speaking in Interlingua, was filled with Valentine code phrases and battle codes that Zelda was not familiar with, but they sounded vaguely like the relaying of attack orders. Curious; the crown princess wondered why this was being broadcasted on such a weakly encrypted channel.

The transmission lasted for another fifteen seconds – Zelda guessed it was confirmation exchanges of target acquisition – before the frequency went silent. She toyed with the dials and switches in an attempt to see if the line had truly went dead, or if the encryption scheme had been elevated; it turned out to be the former.

So an attack was being mounted by Valentine forces…somewhere. She had not gleamed enough of the transmission to figure out where this was taking place, so she decided to run a scan through all frequencies once more. Maybe further radio chatter on other frequencies might reveal what areas were at risk.

To Zelda's surprise, she found the frequency she was looking for faster than she had expected by listening to Gerudo reports of an attack. Any attempt to flip through her notes to see what she had marked as the location of the transmission source earlier, however, was interrupted by a sudden realization on Zelda's part that there was a lot of yelling over the channel. Screaming, in fact. And sounds that suspiciously resembled gunfire, missiles, explosions…and an all-too-familiar _thumping_.

For the next five minutes, she listened in horror as panicked transmissions were shared amongst the Gerudo servicewomen stationed in that operations area, constantly interrupted by rapid bursts of gunfire and explosions. She did not need to be able to decipher the Gerudo battle codes to be able to tell that something had just happened…and the Gerudo forces in the area were caught on the wrong end of far too much firepower. Zelda flinched once as the first radiowoman suddenly made a wet gagging sound – the radiowoman was likely to have been killed by a bullet or something – before her equipment was taken by another soldier after nearly twenty seconds of audible carnage.

It was after those five minutes that the frequency went completely silent…save what sounded like a distant decrescendo of that awful sound of massive pillars moving away from the abandoned radio in ground-crushing motions. Another voice, speaking in a Gerudo dialect and using codes that indicated she was speaking on behalf of combat control behind the frontlines, penetrated the silence in a distress, fearful attempt to raise anyone from the defending Gerudo battalion on the radio.

There was no response.

And as if to confirm her suspicions, as Zelda slowly, shakily, and numbly removed the earphones from her head, she heard the sound of rapid footsteps outside her doors at a panicked, running pace, accompanied by urgent, frantic voices that were muffled behind the closed doors. Clearly, bad news had reached home all too soon.

In almost-jerking motions, Zelda swiftly stood up, ran for the door. Now she seriously needed to find Impa and Leonore.

* * *

It was almost nine thirty when Link received the text message on his cell phone.

He almost missed the ringtone that his cell phone projected, which failed to penetrate the din of the Garuda marketplace, but the vibration in his pocket caught his attention. Although generally not particularly fond of loud environments, Link sometimes made an exception for the Gerudo marketplaces, the more correct name in this instance being "bazaar". The shrill calls of merchants left and right were not keen on his senses, the streets of Garuda flanked by merchant stalls on both sides with too many people congesting the roads for his comfort. Nor was Link entirely comfortable with the fact that there were far too many feminine glances thrown at one of the very few males on the street for his comfort. Still, Link always appreciated a certain preservation of cultural heritage that Gerudo managed here…that, and these bazaars generally carried items that couldn't be found anywhere else. True, most of the stalls sold vegetables and fruits and other types of fruit, but every now and then, he'd find something particularly interesting being sold. On one particular undercover mission in Gerudo, he remembered finding a still-operable minesweeper from the Second Continent War, a relic from almost sixty years ago, being sold alongside several second-hand laptop computers.

In short, Gerudo bazaars were almost like a supermarket and a black market mixed in one.

Link frowned as he patted his body down for his cell phone. He had a highly developed sense of order, and certain items he carried with him were always allocated to their correct pockets. Wallet and any type of monetary items were stored in the left pocket, keys and access cards on the right, cell phones in the inner jacket pocket. Except with the type of weather in Garuda, Link decided that it was probably not a good idea to wear his usual attire in the stifling heat, and found himself a polo shirt instead. The unfamiliarity of the revised location of his cell phone, however, took him a few seconds to overcome before finally fishing it out from his right pocket.

He quickly unlocked the cell phone, keyed for new messages, found one new message from Director Leonore. The text from a woman who could type nearly as fast on her cell phone as she could on a keyboard was unusually terse:

"_Urgent development. Return ASAP."_

Link grimaced. An urgent text message from the director of Joint Intelligence a mere ten hours since being given an official leave was, as a rule, a sure sign of bad news.

* * *

**Exoria File #007  
Gerudo Union**

Formerly a simple alliances of desert tribes, the need to pool resources together in order to weather the harsh climate of the desert formed the basis of the Gerudo Union, itself formally founded roughly seven centuries ago, with historians still in dispute over the exact year. Originally a theocratic republic, politics and technology slowly replaced religion as the dominant forces of the desert civilization, which have also improved by leaps and bounds in the creation of a Gerudo less vulnerable to the natural disadvantages of the desert. Although it is formally considered a single nation, the Gerudo Union is, in fact, a federation of multiple allied states of cultural and ethnic similarities. Each state has autonomous powers over its own political affairs, capable of resisting pressure from the Gerudo capital of Garuda if need be, but they are expected to defer to the Generalissimo in all military affairs, particularly when during a state of war. This has been a serious point of contention in Southern Gerudo, where two civil wars have broken out in the history of the union over heated disputes of the extent of central authority. Those of Gerudo ethnicity suffer from a hereditary chromosomal abnormality, which has posed significant demographic and population problems in Gerudo history; ninety-eight percent of the Gerudo population is female. Advances in genetic manipulation in the realm of medical treatment have marginally increased the rate at which male children are born, but Gerudo still remains predominantly female.

* * *

Author's Note: I'm really sorry about the late update. I had intended to make this chapter something of a breather episode for Link, a chance for him to catch his breath what with our roller coaster ride since Chapter One, but it turned out to be something of a breather for _me_ instead. Aside from real life problems (including one bout of illness bad enough to put me on my back for a while and a surgery operation), this chapter was quite hard for me to write, if only because I had to write about nothing in particular, trying to depict Link relaxing…and I admit I'm not actually very good when writing without an actual focus. Subsequent chapter updates will hopefully be more frequent than this.

Before I am lynched for bringing up the possibility of a Link and Jessica ship (I can probably see the fangirls out for my blood, daring to pair the Hero of Time with some random original character), I want to simply add that this is not a shipping fic. I _do_ admit that I have a slight inclination for a Link and Zelda ship – if only because I'm boring and like the most obvious and generic ships – but romance has never been what the _Zelda _games were about, and I see no reason why I should try to make it so. This is really just a symptom of what I call the Zelda formula, Link attracting the affections of just about every random girl with a name. Note that what I just said above is not any form of conclusive indicator of who Link will eventually end up with romantically, if he ends up with anyone at all. By the way, yes, when I said Jessica wore a sarashi, I _did_ mean the Japanese sarashi. Go on and Google – or, better yet, find it on TV Tropes – if you don't know what it is.

As you can probably tell, the next chapter will be the start of a new storyarc. In fact, it will be in the next chapter that you will probably definitely be able to figure out which part of the "Zelda formula" we're currently on. For now, hang tight; Chapter Seven will be coming up soon. Hopefully.

Per usual, thanks go out to the usual subjects for their avid proofreading and reviewing. I will try to be more avid in my thanks next time around as well.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

"Attention," came the call from a random Gerudo general – Zelda could not see whom from behind the standing crowd of military personnel – as everyone barring the Hylian delegation suddenly stood at attention, each of them rigid and sharp as, from the far end of the conference room, Generalissimo Ganondorf strode firmly in, his gait strong and imposing, as he was escorted by an armed escort. As a foreign sovereign invited to a military briefing, Zelda was not required to stand, especially not under such military settings, and chose not to as a means as to convey a certain subtext. The other members of her delegation, Impa and Leonore, followed their crown princess' example. Link was one of the two exceptions, standing right beside Zelda largely because he had always remained standing as her shield since he had entered the room. Jessica was the other on the basis of technicality; she stayed with the Hylian delegation as the MICO agent responsible for their security, but under the Gerudo chain of command. She stood at attention as well.

At the closer end of the table, Ganondorf took a seat, followed immediately by his senior staff, the highest-ranking generals, and several other military officers. Officers and aides who did not have a seat remained standing. It was not the first time Zelda had been here, and she noted the difference between the room she was in now and the briefing room back in Hyrule City every time she came here. For starters, this briefing room was not located underground, but near the very heart of Fort Garuda, only two floors down from the diplomatic suites. In fact, Fort Garuda did not have much in terms of underground areas; the fort itself was fortified enough to justify the lack of subterranean defenses. The room was also decidedly pragmatic, designed in a manner unlike a small amphitheater, complete with a slanting floor. All the swiveling seats in the room arranged to face the far wall, equipped with a large monitor. The walls were made of stone and steel, but those materials were hidden behind waxed and decorated wooden panels that effectively worked like wallpaper. Zelda herself, as well as Impa and Leonore, took the side of the front row, sitting no more than half a dozen seats away from Ganondorf himself, at the center of the front row, where he was still grandly dressed in military regalia.

Perhaps the strangest sensation of all, however, was the fact that almost everyone here was female. The top brass, various aides, officers…they were all women. The realization that this was a very military briefing enhanced the feeling, seeing long-haired females dressed in uniforms that clearly indicated very high rank. Zelda realized that she was stereotyping a bit – after all, it was only natural that a nation made of an ethnicity with a chromosomal abnormality that caused ninety-eight percent of all children to be born female would have a mostly female military – but the crown princess still found it a stark contrast to her own Hyrule, where the brass was almost completely male. In fact, Zelda, out of this congregation of what she guessed was two dozen, maybe a bit more, she could only spot three men: Link, Ganondorf, and a standing man who had the look of a relatively low-level military aide.

It was after looking around that Ganondorf asked with a slight frown and in a rumbling voice, "Where's Sydney?"

Someone in the front row cleared her throat; Zelda recognized the woman to be the Chairwoman of the Armed Defense Staff, General Meryl, from old briefing photos, a withering woman now into her sixties and carrying what seemed to be either a large cane or a staff, which rested in between her legs as she remained sitting. "Defense Minister Sydney was in Leh when the position was attacked," she explained. "She was evacuated and is currently being flown to Garuda, but cannot attend this meeting via videoconference."

Ganondorf sighed, nodded in tired acceptance of this fact. "Then we'll have to proceed without her." He turned to a woman sitting on the opposite end of the front row from Zelda, asked, "Have you distributed the briefing packets, Director Emi?"

The woman Ganondorf addressed was a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length mousy dry hair that seemed to give it a slightly messy quality, as if the entire thing had shriveled like a broom. She notably wore an eyepatch over her left eye; that single characteristic – above even her distinguishing white and red robes – allowed Zelda to remember that this woman was, in fact, Director Emi of Gerudo's Military Intelligence Coordination Office, and that the loss of her left eye was the direct result of her surviving a car bomb many years ago. "Yes, generalissimo," she answered. Her voice was slightly hoarse, a side effect of damaged vocal cords from the same bomb that claimed her left eye. She had what seemed like a perpetual scowl on her face, as if she was constantly annoyed by something, a clear contrast to Leonore's serene and bemused expression. Link also noticed that Emi sometimes spared strange glances at Jessica that made the young MICO agent shrivel; it was difficult to read the expression, though, not when Emi's default face was that of irritation. Privately, he curiously wondered if the MICO director was one of those aforementioned individuals giving Jessica a hard time with her position in MICO.

"Ladies and gentlemen, before we start, I'd like to first formally introduce Princess Zelda of Hyrule," Ganondorf spoke in a booming voice even as he turned to his right to gesture to Zelda, who nodded her head politely as two dozen heads turned towards her to acknowledge the presence of the sovereign of Hyrule. "While we have made an official explanation or statement yet, her Highness has vowed a joint-defense in cooperating with Gerudo, and will be, for the time being, operating from here in Fort Garuda. She will be attending our military briefings as well. With her are Chief of Staff Impa and Director of Joint Intelligence Leonore. Please ensure you give them every courtesy you can spare." His attention returned to Emi. "Director, have you given them briefing packets? I did not inform you that they would be present."

"Yes, generalissimo," Emi nodded dutifully, and looked towards Zelda with an expression that _almost_ looked like she dared her to disagree. "As well as supplementary material and references, in case her Highness and her entourage are not familiar with Gerudo military organization and terminology. I had a suspicion that you would bring them to this briefing." Zelda nodded quietly as to confirm this; she personally found Emi's preparedness quite professional…and reminded herself that Leonore probably would've done the same thing had positions been reversed. _Intelligence directors aren't appointed without reason_, the crown princess thought, and silently made a reminder to herself to give Leonore more credit when she could.

For his part, Ganondorf merely nodded stoically in acknowledgment, then gestured with an open hand towards Emi. "Very well. Let's get started. Please, director."

Emi took a deep breath as a remote control appeared instantly in her hand – Zelda hadn't seen that earlier – and the screen at the front of the briefing room quickly showed a strategic map of Gerudo with numerous arrows and lines, presumably indicating offensives and lines of resistance. "As you're all aware, this meeting has been called in response to the destruction of Army Group Seven in Leh. General statistics can be found on pages one and two of your briefing packet. We don't have a specific figure yet, due to the speed we deployed the Army Group and not having stopped to make a full accounting, but initial estimates based on the original size of the battalion and the survivors we've managed to recover show that we've lost approximately seven hundred soldiers this morning, killed or missing."

Sharp intakes of breath and assorted murmurs of alarm were sudden and abrupt; heads swiveled and eyes exchanged startled glances as the new sank in. Seven hundred killed in the morning when offenses had begun to die down. Not only was the number staggering, but each of the officers in the room knew of Gerudo military deployment doctrines…and how large of a hole that left in the main line of resistance.

"The end result is that Army Group Thirteen currently has both its flanks completely exposed in a salient leading nowhere that must be defended," Emi continued, clearing her throat to silence the din. "They withstood an artillery shelling followed by a ground assault this morning, but are currently at half battle strength." She turned to her briefing packet, and several heads subconsciously followed that lead. "Commanding officer Colonel Vicky has been killed in action, and has been replaced by Lieutenant Colonel Zia of the same army group. Reserves, four hundred strong, are currently being deployed from Suleman, but that is only a temporary holding action. We're struggling to establish more sufficient supply lines to Leh, which will take another two or three days, to make up for the loss in equipment. That is sufficient time for an enemy follow-up attack that Army Group Thirteen is not likely to be able to withstand."

Ganondorf thoughtfully placed a hand upon his chin. "Assuming that a tactical withdrawal is an option on the table, would there be anything important there we'd be leaving behind?"

"Abandoning Leh compromises the supply line for Army Group Six in Sitara," General Meryl quickly spoke before Emi could put forth a response, "but they can last another four, five days without additional supplies. And I'm certain we can rework another supply line through Haider in two days, maybe even tomorrow night."

It was possibly that Emi seemed irate at being interrupted, but didn't give any immediately noticeable sign towards it. "As outlined in page six," she started, and pages immediately began to turn around the room, "Leh is the primary source of civilian power for the population centers in Karachi, which, as you all know, is currently being used by the enemy for their main line of resistance. The reactors have been shut down – although not scrapped – after Karachi was taken by the enemy in an effort to prevent them from gaining access to our power grids. Although it'll take several days if Valentine forces intend to convert the civilian power plants for any sort of appreciable military use, we'd still be leaving infrastructure very open to them."

"So would it be advisable to lock down or destroy the power plants should the need for withdrawal be paramount?" asked the Generalissimo.

Again, Meryl was the one who provided the answer. "Not necessarily. We're only two days into this war, and nothing has been very decisive yet. No one can give a very good guess as to how our forces will perform for the next few days until the dust has settled a bit more and we start making more logistical progress. Making premature plans as to whether or not we're going to destroy the power plant is moot when we cannot give any good promise as to whether or not we can take back Leh anytime soon."

"Is it possible to lock down the Leh power plants, make them unusable to the enemy without having to destroy them?"

Emi closed her eye and shook her head. "No, generalissimo. The Leh power grid is a civilian one; they were not required to install the Noman-Rao Override. We cannot force a computerized lockdown of Leh's power plants."

"An additional consideration is the fact that Leh largely powers Karachi," said a high-ranked official in the back row who wore the uniform and colors of the Gerudo air force. Zelda could not spot an insignia from that range beyond too many heads, although judging by where he sat in the briefing room and the somewhat surprised reaction at her words, Zelda ventured a guess that the officer was likely outranked by almost everyone in the room. "If we destroy it, we also cripple the civilian infrastructure in the occupied area. I would advise leaving the power plants as they are. We can always authorize long-range air or artillery strikes if they prove to be a problem."

"I agree, generalissimo," Emi seemed supportive of the idea…perhaps _too_ immediately supportive. Zelda wondered if there were beneath-the-table office politics at work here. "And in the event that we may need to destroy the power plants later on, the infrastructure failure may entice the population in Karachi into an uprising against the Valentine occupation, when they have no easy access to water and electricity. This will be especially effective the later we do it, as Valentine troops begin to grow weary and fatigued."

"Which is the same state our own forces will be in," Ganondorf muttered with a deep sigh, but he seemed to be sold on the idea, confirmed by his following orders. "Give Army Group Thirteen authorization for a tactical withdrawal as soon as they are reinforced by reserves. Tell their CO that she has full discretion as to whether or not the army group is to retreat, but leave the Leh power grid untouched. Stand their ground if they can, but survival is top priority. It will be a fighting withdrawal, not a full strategic retreat." The look in his eyes turned even flintier than it was before. "I want Valent to have to fight for every centimeter of our land."

"Yes, generalissimo," someone Zelda couldn't see on the other end of the room – presumably an army general – responded immediately.

Nodding in satisfaction, Generalissimo Ganondorf inhaled deeply, pressed his lips together, fired a sidelong, meaningful glance at Director Emi. "Now that we have a defensive plan, it's time to tackle the heart of the problem…how an entire army group can be wiped out in the space of a morning."

Again, Emi took a deep breath before speaking, a telltale sign that the news she was about to deliver wasn't good. "MICO intercepted enemy radio transmission that pointed to a weapon codenamed 'Anansi'," she said sharply. "Current evidence suggests that this weapon is what caused the destruction of Army Group Seven. MICO liaisons were able to recover a video recording from one of Army Group Seven's battle cameras on-site, and our headquarters has received and processed this recording an hour ago. It depicts their attempt to defend in this weapon, an effort that resulted in…" there was a pause as Emi's lips pressed tightly together to form a thin, pale line, twitched once at the corner, then, unable to come up with a better term for the situation at hand, finished slowly, "…_failure_." And, with that, Emi turned to the screen once more, and the remote control was aimed and clicked; the forward screen displayed what seemed like a low-quality video recording, probably taken by a helmet camera of an infantryman.

By no means was the video even decently recorded; the resolution was barely high enough, and it kept shaking as the recording infantrywoman ran, her camera bouncing up and down with each footstep, turning left and right along with the head as the soldier looked to her sides to ensure her flanks were secure. It was clearly daytime, however, and clearly out in the desert, blue skies matching beige dunes. Voices were nearly drowned out by what sounded like constant gunfire from _everywhere_, distorted by low-quality audio and mono sound from the briefing room speakers. Tracer fire filled the screen whenever the camera pointed towards the horizon or skywards, and although Zelda couldn't see where all the firepower was being aimed at, she knew exactly what was going on.

The recording infantrywoman ran towards a low wall, seemingly the remains of an ancient ruin or building, dropped and pressed herself against it with what seemed like a fireteam of three other infantrywoman, two of them carrying rifles, one with a bazooka, all of them decked out in combat fatigues and army helmets. One of them opened her mouth to shout something over the gunfire, but she was interrupted as the sound of an explosion overcame them – the sound was loud and distorted even over the speakers, and the resulting feedback caused a few cringes around the briefing room – and the fireteam ducked and curled just as a cloud of sand and smoke wafted by, revealing an explosion that had come too close to comfort.

"Holly, cover fire on my mark!" one of the women shouted practically in front of the camera – apparently, she was a squad leader – as a small column of tanks rolled by. "Bernice, you take Linda, go left to that wall over there." She pointed, and the camera swiveled to barely capture the outline of a similar low wall about fifteen meters away. "Get her to send a rocket up this thing's ass. On my mark!" The fireteam leader held up three fingers, which dropped one by one as she counted down. "Three! Two! One!" And, immediately, the fireteam leader and another woman – presumably "Holly", stood up, leaning against the top of the low wall as their assault rifles came to bear, firing over their cover and into the air as "Linda", the one carrying the bazooka, ran right past the camera before the camera itself turned as "Bernice" stood and began firing in the same direction, providing cover fire for Linda, both of them running towards the low wall.

It was as Bernice provided covering fire, barrel of the assault rifle appearing at the bottom of the screen and flashing with fully automatic fire, that the crowd took a deep breath at the sight at the center of the screen. Most of them thought it was a recording error at first, a glitch, or perhaps the unfortunate side effect of recording a battlefield on a low-resolution camera. But as orange lines of fire – from assault rifles, machine guns, tank rounds – and contrails of smokes – exhaust from rockets and missiles – filled the screen like a clear starry night, connecting and harmlessly impacting against and bouncing off what seemed like a massive sphere in the air, the occupants of the room slowly came to realize that what they were seeing was not an illusion at all, but something very real. The metallic sphere, at least twenty meters in diameter, flashed with light across its diameter, the sign of fully automatic chain guns clicking away, sending a hail of bullets in almost every direction, many of them striking down scores of Gerudo infantrywomen caught in the line of fire, scores of soldiers being cut down in an instant. Contrails of smoke erupted from the top of the sphere and missiles were launched into the air. Painfully slow seconds passed before, with resounding explosions, columns of tanks were mercilessly drowned out by impacting top-attack missiles, lines of armored vehicles disappearing in a column of flames. It moved swiftly across the landscape, across the Gerudo main line of defense with frightening speed – almost too fast to be believed for a vehicle of that size, and certainly much faster than a tank, humvee, or any military vehicle. And where it moved, death accompanied; chain gun fire and missiles flew from that sphere, supported by four massive pillars that made up its legs, vehicles turning into scrap metal and entire squads falling lifeless onto the dunes. The entire thing was unloading firepower worthy of a heavenly arsenal.

Zelda, having only realized that she was anxiously holding her breath, realized exactly what that thing – "Anansi" – was: The spider-tank that had pursued them in Hyrule City. Either it was now here in Gerudo…or, an even worse possibility, there were _more_ than one of them.

It wasn't just the Gerudo army group – Army Group Seven, Emi said – that was firing. The horizon also flashed with pinpricks of light; rifles, cannons, and artillery pieces on the other side of the main line of resistance answered in kind, launching a massive hail of fire against Gerudo lines even as Anansi wreaked havoc against the defending army group.

Anansi temporarily disappeared from the screen as Bernice and Linda quickly dropped onto the sand and behind the low wall, taking cover as they pressed themselves against it. The camera turned sporadically between Linda setting up the bazooka and Anansi in the distance. Another salvo of missiles flew up into the air from its top as the armored walker swiftly sidestepped lines of light aimed towards it, and, moments later, the missiles turned in the air and came dropping down on nearly two dozen tanks on the ground, turning them into scrap metal several explosions later. The camera turned again; Linda perched her bazooka over the low wall, aiming the barrel at the walker. A moment later, the screen was obscured with smoke for an instant before a contrail of smoke tailed a rocket streaking its way towards Anansi. It twisted in midair a few times before – just two hundred meters away, the walker having moved there while they were seeking cover – impacting against the metallic sphere, creating an explosion of smoke that barely obscured the walker…and seemingly did no damage against it. Or perhaps it created a dent, but the video resolution was too low to capture it. Watching, Zelda doubted it, though; considering that a shower of firepower had yet to impair Anansi's performance, it was unlikely that a measly shoulder-launched rocket could do much to it.

Linda muttered something, but, over the gunfire and explosions in the background, Zelda couldn't hear what she said. Neither could Bernice, apparently, as a voice shouted out, "I can't hear you!"

"Not a scratch!" Linda made an effort to shout this time, reloading her launcher with another rocket. "Cover me; I'm going to go try to…" Yet another explosion rocked the camera, both Bernice and Linda cringing. Bernice barely managed to turn her head – and the helmet camera, by extension – around quickly enough to catch a glimpse of an expanding cloud of dust, the aftereffect of an explosion, looming around the low wall where their squadmates had been seeking cover before. A loose formation of tanks had set up firing positions just right of them…and when Anansi had fired its anti-tank missiles, they detonated against the tanks…much too close to the other two members of the fireteam, caught in the blast.

Bernice uttered a harsh expletive at the sight, a sentiment interrupted only by a hail of chain gun fire suddenly flying all around her – Zelda could hear the whizzing of each bullet that came way too close even through the poor digitalized recording – and Bernice quickly ducked even further against the wall, seeking cover.

"Cover me!" Linda shouted just before Bernice turned around to look at her. "I'm going to try to outflank the bastard, see if I can get a better shot!" Without waiting for a reply, Linda quickly ran to the left once more…just as a column of Gerudo tanks passed by. What sounded vaguely like a screamed warning had barely left Bernice's lips when the screen suddenly filled with fire and smoke for an instant before static replaced it for a few startling seconds. When the picture finally returned, the camera was pointed skywards, the lens cracked down the middle, and a third of the screen filled with what seemed to be blood. Gunfire and explosions continued to streak across the air, accompanied by the occasional meteor shower of flying missiles. Occasional ragged, tortured breaths could be heard, presumably Bernice trying very hard to breathe after being mortally wounded by anti-tank missiles that had destroyed a column of Gerudo tanks passing right by Linda and herself. It sounded like cracked wheezing…painful, broken sobs. Listening to it suddenly made Zelda feel very nauseous and very self-conscious…and, looking around, she could tell by the difficult, pained expressions on many a woman around her that she was not alone in this thought. Emi, having realized this, keyed the remote control; the audio feed went mute and the speakers fell silent before she continued the briefing. The recording still played, although it was only of orange and white lines dividing the blue sky.

"As indicated in page three of your briefing packets," Emi cleared her throat before continuing her explanation dispassionately, ignoring the fact that it took several uncertain seconds before the shaken attendees could remove their gaze from the ghastly one-sided battle being played on screen and hesitantly flip through the briefing packet, "the video identified seven chain gun emplacements of an unspecified caliber, although geometric analysis suggests the presence of at least three more chain guns the camera did not catch, and on-site MICO liaisons say that the rounds are likely to be point-fifties, judging by the wreckages and corpses in the area. We're also looking at a minimum of twenty-four missile ports on the top of the main body, top-attack anti-tank missiles, capable of putting down a large group of tanks easily. It has the offensive capability to effectively engage practically any ground target, whether it is infantry or armored. Furthermore, watching the firing patterns of each weapon, it is safe to say that the weapons systems are either completely automated or computer-assisted, seeing how they can rapidly target many, many different targets at once. The main body is twenty-two meters in diameter in a near-perfect sphere. Judging by how well the weapon held together when attacked, and by looking at how four legs were able to support its weight, we're making a guess that we're looking at very thick battle armor, most likely an allotrope of titanium or carbon. Tank shells mostly ricochet off its solid shell, and missiles cause minimal damage. The top speed of Anansi as seen by the video is approximately three hundred kilometers per hour; we don't know if it can achieve higher speeds." Emi paused just long enough to register the fact that the import of this news had rendered the entire room into stunned, horrified silence. With a deep breath, she allowed, "This weapon is an army-killer."

On the front display, the camera was still recording the sky, but firepower was not longer being rapidly exchanged. Only occasionally was a stray tracer round or missile seen on screen. Clearly, the battle was beginning to wind down…if only because of a lack of people to fire or fire upon. Gerudo Army Group Seven was being inexorably wiped out.

When a general sitting behind Ganondorf spoke, she did so in a quiet, slightly-choked tone that betrayed her shock…and possibly her grief. "Does it have any potential weaknesses?"

There was a long moment of silence – possibly members of the Gerudo war pavilion waking up from their personal nightmares – before the air force officer spoke up once more. "A-Air strikes may be a possible option," she answered after a slight false start. "But that's only if the Valentine air force isn't flying top cover; we don't have the manpower, resources, or the technology to go head-to-head…toe-to-toe for air superiority. Furthermore, we'd be looking at using large payloads, bombs or missiles that can devastate an entire region…which may have to be used on our own soil, especially if the enemy has it positioned near a population center."

"The bad news doesn't end there." The MICO director sounded strangely in control of her voice and temperament; either she had watched this recording enough and already had time to get over this overwhelming revelation…or she was a simply a woman who refused to lose her cool. "Further intelligence suggests that Anansi isn't the only anti-army weapon Valent has. The latest communiqués have alluded to the codenames 'Jormungand' and 'Quetzalcoatl'. We did not know what these codenames were referring to when we intercepted them, but with Anansi…well." She uncomfortably twitched her mouth again. "MICO is led to believe that Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl are very likely Valentine anti-army weapons as well."

The director was met with yet another round of silence and wide-eyed stares. A weapon codenamed Anansi had already effortlessly decimated an army group…and now intelligence has revealed that there were also _two more weapons_? It was a terrifically horrifying thought. Only Leonore, Link, Ganondorf, and Emi seemed nonplussed and stoic at this new piece of information. And it seemed that the occupants of the room would never snap out of it…until somewhere in the back of the room, a pen rolled off a desk and dropped to the floor with a sharp clatter, and the sudden gasps from the military brass would've been hilarious had circumstances been more rewarding.

The first reaction that was one of outrage as one general behind Zelda banged a fist against the table in front of her. "This is absolutely unacceptable!" she shrieked uncomfortably close to the crown princess' ear. "How the hell can Valent construct these things and MICO not even notice?"

If anything else, Emi seemed appropriately annoyed more than threatened or scared. "General, this is obviously Valent's trump card," she drawled impatiently. "It's only logical that they kept this very, very close to the chest within very inner circles."

"I agree with Director Emi," Leonore suddenly interjected and unexpectedly, and eyes swiveled to stare at her. This included Zelda – surprised that Leonore would speak at a briefing without being asked – and Emi – who seemed either suspicious of or amused by support from a foreign intelligence agency's director. "Joint Intelligence had received absolutely no clue of these weapons' existence. It's clear Valent went with a complete information blackout on this one."

As if to defuse the situation, Ganondorf quickly followed right after the director of Joint Intelligence, looking at the screen and moving back to matters pragmatic. "I'm curious of the secret behind this weapon's effectiveness," he mused aloud. "I thought it's a belief held amongst most theorists that walker vehicles are largely impractical."

"_Bipedal_ walker vehicles, generalissimo," the general behind Ganondorf that had asked about Anansi's potential weakness replied; her voice was much more stable this time, having recovered from the initial shock and disbelief. "Theorists are much more divided on quadruped walker vehicles. The theory, of course, is that a walker would be able to navigate uneven terrain much more effectively than, say, a tank or a humvee. The counterargument is that taking out one of its legs is enough to cripple one of these walkers."

"Just as taking out a tire or a tread can cripple a tank or a humvee," the generalissimo muttered thoughtfully.

"That's true, generalissimo, but they're also much easier to replace than, say, a leg. Legs are also larger, much more of a target."

"But the legs seem to be reinforced, much more heavily armored," noted Emi. "Plus they have extra supporting struts, makes destroying the joints of the walker just as difficult as destroy the legs itself."

Meryl cleared her throat – perhaps an unnecessary motion, but it certainly caught everyone's attention, even if Emi's eye rolled once – before speaking. "I think the real question we want to address here is just _how_ they're powering this…" She waved her hand in the air at the screen, struggling to recall the weapon's name. "…_Anansi_. Emi, please rewind." The director complied, and the digital recorded flowed backwards, pausing upon command when the spider walker was once again on screen. "Look at this thing. Three hundred kilometers per hour for a colossal machine with four massive legs. Chain gun emplacements, top-attack missiles…and now we're talking about computer-assisted targeting systems." She looked around incredulously. "Is it even _possible_ to create a reactor that small to provide that much energy?"

"The main body is twenty-two meters in diameter," an officer on the far end of the room noted. "Plenty of room."

"Twenty-two meters _including_ armor," the general behind Zelda scowled. "Judging by how well this thing took tank shells and missiles, I'm saying this thing looks like its armor is…I don't know. Half a meter thick? A meter? Maybe more?"

"Army engineering already has a copy of the video, general," Emi curtly answered. "They're still running simulations in conjunction with MICO, but the initial assumption is that the armor is likely to be somewhere between one and a half to two meters thick. That leaves plenty of room for a pilot, a reactor, computer systems, plenty of ammunition…" She trailed off; the rest could be left unspoken.

"We saw how much firepower that thing was packing," Meryl sounded terse, if not impatient and irate. "And I think we all have an idea of how much room it needs to store missiles, bullets, a _pilot or two_…but that doesn't nearly give enough room for an engine. What kind of engine would be small enough to tuck into all that and yet still be able to power that kind of monster?"

The response came from an unexpected source. "No engine model comes to mind, I fear," Zelda spoke in a dignified voice, and, immediately, heads swiveled to look upon the Hylian head of state, many of them beginning to assess whether Zelda – an unknown factor to Gerudo's war pavilion – had a sound mind worthy of the rumors surrounding her, or was merely a princess taking the opportunity to play soldier. "Not even Hyrule has been able to build a compact engine of that kind of envisioned size and that kind of power output. Not even close." She paused as the gears in her head began to spin, making connections with other facts she knew, and continued very slowly and thoughtfully. "Theoretically, this may be possible with the assistance of a very small but very powerful battery…" Another pause, before she exhaled deeply, having made that final connection in her mind, murmured, "…Which could've been charged days ago." She turned to the DJI seated beside her. "Director Leonore?"

Leonore caught on to the cue, began to speak in her smooth, resonate voice. "This Monday, our Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance detected a surge of enemy coming from three different sources in Valent, all of them military bases, one army, one naval, one air force. MICO confirmed that with us, but, at the time, we had no idea what it was for. The numbers we received were at least twenty-three terawatts, maybe much more." Then, reminded of the initial reactions displayed by Hylian army staff, swiftly added, "Terawatts, for those who aren't familiar, are what we measure continental energy consumption and usage with on a year basis. As far as we know, none of us are even close to developing technology with that kind of power level."

"So let me make sure I'm still on the right track," Ganondorf quickly spoke above the din of alarmed mutterings across the room, a frown evident on her face as she looked squarely at the Hylian delegation. "Valent develops a power source that is completely unrivaled by anything we've ever accomplished. Three of them, in fact, on military bases that we are assuming powered and breathed life into these weapons in the first place. And now we've seen one, codenamed Anansi. Director Leonore, you said the bases they were powered at were army, navy, and air force, yes?"

"Yes, generalissimo," the director responded.

"That means the other two, Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl, are likely to be some sort of naval and aerial weapon, if we assume Anansi is a ground-based weapon. Looking at Anansi alone, we are looking at a machine capable of destroying an armored army group, with speeds up to three hundred kilometers per hour, impervious to tank shells and missiles…" an edge began to grow in the generalissimo's voice, filled with disbelief, incredulity, and dissatisfaction, "…and the best option I have on the table right now is an air strike that is not likely to work if Valent has air superiority?"

The general behind Ganondorf spoke first. "We could always consider putting together three army groups into a special coalition dedicated to hunting down these weapons, generalissimo, fast-responders…"

One of Ganondorf's red eyebrows arched dramatically. "By tracking a target that can move faster than any of our tanks and can lay waste to any point of the main line of resistance in five minutes?"

"Generalissimo," the general remained undeterred. "I believe further engagements with this Anansi can reveal more about its attack patterns, how it's deployed, how it works, how the enemy uses it strategically…"

A sneer came from behind Zelda. "While they tear our forces apart and allows for an even faster advance? Use your head." The princess swiftly decided that she did not like the belligerent, antagonistic military leader seated behind her.

"Enough of that," Ganondorf scowled sternly before softening his voice once more to address the assembly in general. "So direct combat is something that should be avoided."

"I wouldn't necessarily say so, generalissimo," came a new voice three seats to Zelda's right, and the princess saw an army officer who curiously did not wear an insignia denoting rank. "Anything falls when hit with enough firepower. If our troops are more prepared, they know this weapon exists, we can make this a priority target. Heavy firepower, everything hitting that thing, including long-range artillery support."

"Maybe," Ganondorf allowed, "but the problem is how well we can field that firepower. In the meantime, with the kind of speed this weapon can pull off, it's likely the enemy will be able to choose their engagements. They can easily choose to fight battles where we don't have enough time to bring weapons to bear."

"Perhaps, but that does not mean we should not make an effort to make an active defense, generalissimo. This may very well be a chance for us to create a fully mobile army group, something we've been wanting to put into effect for some time."

"That would put a huge strain on resources," Meryl noted, disapproval reflected in her voice. "How much manpower and weaponry would have to be diverted? How would this kind of unit resupply when actively patrolling the main line of resistance? These are questions we've never found a good answer to."

"I believe those worries are justified," agreed the general behind Ganondorf. "We can ill afford to let an entire army group run willy-nilly, let alone one that's the size of three."

It was clear that the generalissimo was becoming impatient with all the fruitless debate around him. "I'm tasking all generals present to submit a report on the logistics of running a fully mobile army group _if_ we are pressed to make one," he interrupted tersely, and the room fell silent, noting his mood. "I'm _not_ confirming whether or not it will happen until I see that report. In the meantime, I _do_ want a strategy report on my desk by tomorrow morning for my approval, detailing heightened strategic defenses at airbases." He turned towards the air force officer in the back, nodded. "If air strikes seem to be the best option so far, I want that option to still be a possibility, however ineffective it may be. I'm making Anansi top priority, along with Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl as soon as we can identify them. Ensure the enemy can't overrun our airbases." His attention turned back towards the military brass in general. "In the meantime, I _do_ want a task force created to be on the lookout for this weapon; the earlier we know where the weapon will hit, the earlier we can launch our planes into the skies to hit that thing, the higher our chances of success."

Speaking for her staff, the chairwoman of Gerudo's Armed Defense Staff nodded curtly. "It will be done, generalissimo."

"Director Emi, MICO will be charged with keeping track of all enemy communications, finding out if you can gleam any more information on Anansi and the other Valentine weapons."

"Yes, generalissimo," Emi replied.

"Generalissimo," the air force officer in the back suddenly called out, "in light of the existence of these weapons, I believe there is the need to cement a team effort with Hylian armed forces if we are to hope to field any good answer against the Valentine superweapons." Contrary to her expectations, however, several eyes slowly turned towards her, casting the officer unreadable glances that suddenly told the air force woman that she had asked a question that wasn't supposed to be. Somehow, Zelda got the feeling that she was being left out on something that had already been decided upon, and although Leonore showed no signs of picking up on such a sign, the princess decided that the director must've noticed it too. Even Impa seemed intrigued, although Link's stoicism made it hard to tell as to whether or not the agent figured anything out.

"Perhaps." Something in Ganondorf's voice convinced Zelda that the generalissimo wanted to move ahead and past this question as soon as possible. "But until we can actually establish a concrete line of communication with Hylian forces, I want to first cement the framework of a worst-case scenario. Plan for the worst, hope for the best. The rest will come with time."

It was clear that pressing the issue at this briefing was not going to solve anything; being impolite in front of so many people – especially the military brass – was going to impede their diplomatic relations more than it was going to answer Zelda's questions. A private inquiry could be made later, although, in truth, she knew the answers to her questions, and merely wanted to let Ganondorf that she knew of his intentions…which, of course, would be _exactly_ what he wanted. It was the unspoken language in geopolitics that they were so fluent in; there were only so many moves and countermoves one could make in any given situation, and both heads of state were too cunning the statesman to make anything but the best choices.

In the meantime, some face-saving was probably in order, and – perhaps in an effort to leave the military leaders here clueless – Zelda cleared her throat, and the room's attention once again turned towards her. "Generalissimo, if I may," she spoke, and allowed for a moment to pass for the attendees to focus on the sovereign of Hyrule. "I would like to pose a question I haven't heard yet: Why hasn't the enemy pressed its advantage? Clearly, Anansi could've done a lot more than just destroy one army group if it did so to one in five minutes. It could've moved further into Gerudo lines, or maybe just skirting the line, doing more damage. Why didn't it?"

Thoughtful glances and curious murmurs were exchanged through the room. "Maybe we damaged something?" someone – an army colonel – suggested.

"Didn't look that way," muttered another officer just loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Or, alternatively, Anansi need to head back to resupply," came yet another suggestion. It was clear that the discussion had become a living creature all on its own, and that these were not answers to the question Zelda posed as much as it was a reorganizing of thoughts for the entire Gerudo war staff. Ganondorf himself seemed intrigued, a hand cupping his chin once more as he looked contemplatively at his Hylian counterpart.

Hearing the answer she wanted, the princess continued, "Assuming that the resupplying scenario is the case, we are likely to be looking at a significant amount of time being inactive in Valentine territory, probably at an outpost or a base. It's also likely that this is when it's most vulnerable. In this case, we could always try an infiltration mission, send one soldier behind enemy lines to sabotage the weapon."

Again, a rising din pervaded the chamber, heated discussion amongst each and every individual and those who sat near thinking aloud and sharing their opinions, weighing them against Zelda's own. Some of them were beginning to warm to the idea; others had frowns that clearly showed doubt or disapproval. Zelda noticed that Leonore was hiding a grin as she pretended to suddenly be fascinated by her fingernails; the princess could only guess that the DJI had long thought of this approach, but had let everyone else try to figure it out by themselves. Again, an inherent annoyance towards the director rose within Zelda, a feeling that Leonore was being holier-than-thou and comfortable in her arrogance. Then, remembering her earlier private commitment to give the director more credit, she swallowed that feeling down. No need to start enmity here.

The general behind Zelda spoke loudly above the heated debates, and it was clear that protocol – the demand for politeness in front of a foreign head of state – was the only thing that kept her from remarking on what she perceived to be Zelda's poor military sense. "If Army Group Seven could barely stand up against Anansi," she quipped, barely managing to stifle what would've otherwise been a condescending smirk, "I'd hardly think one woman could make a difference, your Highness."

Zelda, for her part, remained impassive and dignified. "Not necessarily. It seems rather clear to me that Anansi is mostly an anti-army weapon instead of an anti-personnel weapon. Its armaments are clearly meant for something more along the lines of inflicting damage across a wide area as opposed to actually targeting any one enemy with surgical precision. When I ran into Anansi in Hyrule City…"

"Excuse me, your Highness," came the sudden interruption from Director Emi, her voice incredulous and filled with suspicion in disbelief. In hindsight, that was probably what her voice sounded like all the time. "You _saw_ Anansi in Hyrule City?" Whereas Zelda had expected more discussion amongst the staff at these words, the room actually fell strangely silent as everyone strained to hear the princess' answer.

"Yes, assuming that this _is_ the same Anansi and not another weapon of the same model." Zelda suppressed a shudder at this possibility; the idea of Valent possessing more than one of these superweapons was a thought too terrible for her to want to consider. "From what I've seen so far, even its chain guns have a notorious lack of accuracy; they're meant to coat an area with gunfire, not to actually pick off targets. Plus the infiltrating soldier would largely be destroying the weapon when it's refueling or resupplying or…something." She shrugged. "We could always stick with the 'explosives in the cockpit' plan, to keep things simple. In the event that we conduct the sabotage mission in an enemy base, it is unlikely that the weapon will be active in the first place."

The most brilliant minds of Gerudo's war pavilion shared thoughts aloud once more, but it was clear this time by the tone of voices and the words exchanged that the general consensus towards this analysis was favorable. "Her Highness does have a point, your Majesty," Meryl nodded to her generalissimo, and although her voice was soft, the entire room instantly fell silent to hear what the second-highest-ranking military officer in Gerudo had to say of the matter. "I believe it has a higher chance of success than anything else suggested at the moment."

Ganondorf finally leaned forward, his hands clasping together as he laid his elbows on the table before him, looking stoically at Zelda with a respectful nod of his head. "A sound plan, your Highness," he permitted slowly, then, just when he seemed to be finished, added suddenly, "…with just one problem. Gerudo does not have any military special forces that are trained to be deployed undercover and alone behind enemy lines for this type of covert operation."

"Excuse me." It was Impa who suddenly spoke up, raising a hand, and attention turned to this new voice, this new unknown factor. "I'm aware of Gerudo's lack of special forces, but I'm wondering why there is such a lack."

Uncomfortable glances were shared – this was, admittedly, a bit of an unavoidable embarrassment to the Gerudo military as a whole – as Meryl cleared her throat before providing the explanation. "Recruitment of military forces, as well as day-to-day management, is largely the responsibility of the Gerudo provinces, something that the central government does not often get involved in. As I'm sure you know, each Gerudo province has a certain extent of autonomous powers, although the political climate in the last century has made it so that these provinces are…" Her mouth twitched once; Meryl's loyalties laid with Ganondorf, and she was not particularly fond of how military loyalty sometimes spread itself over the provinces of Gerudo. "…overprotective, let's say, of their autonomy. In preparation for a potential need for defense, each province recruits and organizes their military forces to best optimize itself for conventional frontline combat in the event of civil war." She shrugged ruefully. "Which, unfortunately, is distressingly common in Gerudo, as I'm sure you all know."

"Plus the natural geography of Gerudo makes special or covert operations difficult in a battlefield environment, if not impractical," added the general behind the Hylian delegation, although when she spoke, her tone was not unkindly…at least, until it dabbed in a bit of contempt with the remainder of her explanation. "It's something we generally leave to MICO, but they're mostly just an information-gathering office as opposed to clandestine paramilitary. They don't have special operations outfits capable of providing someone for a deep-insertion solo-man op any more than we do."

"And, as far as we've been informed," Meryl finished, "Princess Zelda has not been able to make contact with her special forces."

"But there is someone right here who has official infiltration and sabotage training," Impa amended, and, oblivious to the sudden alarmed looks that both Zelda and Leonore fired at her, finished, "Agent Link."

And Link, who had been largely ignored since the entire meeting started and swiftly dismissed as merely "Princess Zelda's bodyguard" was suddenly the center of scrutiny amongst the entire host of stunned military leaders who suddenly seemed to stare at Link in the same way some in Gerudo who stare at a miracle bestowed upon them by their goddess Dinah. The Joint Intelligence agent, although remaining stoic, suddenly felt the attention he had unintentionally garnered to be extremely uncomfortable, going against everything he had learned about laying low as a field agent, and his fidget was not missed by Zelda, Leonore, or Jessica.

In the stunned quiet, Impa suddenly noticed that both the Hylian crown princess and the director of Joint Intelligence were suddenly glaring at her, and the poor chief of staff had no idea why. She immediately interpreted their looks the wrong way, and quickly supplemented, "I've read his personnel dossier when he was first being rotated over to Hyrule Palace. I remember the file saying he was officially certified for infiltration, undercover, and sabotage missions."

Beside a contemplative Ganondorf, who seemed deep in thought, Meryl spoke to the DJI. "Is this true, Director Leonore?"

Leonore took one look around – as if confirming for herself that there didn't seem like there was a real way out of this predicament – and subdued a very pressing urge to sigh, a motion that would probably be interpreted for exactly what it was. "It is," she admitted after a moment's pause. "Agent Link has had formal training for such, and is cleared for such missions." She fired another look at Impa, who remained utterly confused.

Although she didn't exactly seem enthusiastic, Emi's tone seemed more reasonable than before as she addressed Ganondorf. "Generalissimo, if her Highness is willing to field Agent Link, this may very well become your best option on the table."

"I agree," Meryl concurred. "This seems to be the most practical option on the table right now, and it's something only Hyrule can perform in light of the current situation."

"But that," Ganondorf calmly, slowly, deliberately spoke as he locked gazes with Zelda, who, in return, looked stoically back with a poker face, and, immediately, the gazes of everyone in the room became intensely riveted on her, the room exceedingly quiet, "is a decision completely up to her highness."

The crown princess neither nodded nor shook her head. "And in light of the current situation," her tone was carefully neutral, "it is a decision I must consider carefully before giving you any reply." A pause, perhaps thoughtful, perhaps deliberate. "I am aware that a swift reply is favorable."

"I will be patiently waiting for it, then," the generalissimo merely nodded coolly in response, and – seeing the princess was not going to raise anymore discussion – turned his attention to the rest of the chamber's occupants. "Are there any issues at hand, or must we wait until there is further progressing before more discussion is warranted?" His eyes scanned the small crowd of military officers, who otherwise held their silence aside from sporadic muttering and whispering shared amongst several of them seated close enough to each other. The consensus was clear: They weren't going to be solving anymore problems until more intelligence came in…or until things got worse.

The former was preferable, but all of them knew that the latter was more likely.

Nodding, the generalissimo closed his briefing packet with a single hand before standing, prompting everyone else to rise with him. "Very well," he breathed heavily in what could've, in less formal surroundings, been classified as a sigh. "Briefing adjourned."

* * *

"The generalissimo seemed aversive to discussing the possibility of cooperating with Hylian forces," Impa remarked as soon as Jessica bowed out after asking if her services were still required and then closed the doors of Zelda's diplomatic suite. The chief of staff was acutely aware that she had somehow stepped on a few toes back at the briefing – among them the crown princess' and the director's – and was eager to divert attention elsewhere lest displeasure towards her rose once more.

All of them were of course aware of the high possibility that the room was bugged with electronic surveillance devices, but the decision had been made to pretend they were not aware of such. And so the delegation of four merely held their words when Jessica and an armed escort brought them back to the suites. Besides, they _had_ to communicate somehow, and prolonged usages of codes or alternative methods of communications would've been…suspicious. Now was not the time for them to press Gerudo on the possibility of political blackmail, not when there was a war going on.

Zelda, seated on her couch, leaning against its back, and rubbing the bridge of her nose, seemed more tired than upset, which – for both Link and Impa – reinforced the need to remind her to get more rest. "I'm not surprised," she murmured as Leonore and Impa took seats opposite of her across the table while Link stood at his usual flanking position by the wall to respond to any possible threat. "It would not be unlikely for me to have done the same had positions been reversed. The generalissimo is too good a politician to allow for this to go too far. Both of us know what is at stake."

Both Link and Impa exchanged confused glances; in response, Zelda and Leonore exchanged knowing ones. With a geopolitical lecture at hand, the DJI merely shrugged, an indicator that she was more than willing to allow for the head of state to be the teacher this time. Zelda sighed, but otherwise turned towards Link and Impa, an indication for Leonore to still her tongue.

"Neither Ganondorf nor I wish for destabilization to go beyond what is already at hand," the princess explained. Her hands went for the tea set on the table, and began working on her own cup of tea after shrugging off nonverbal offers from both Leonore and Impa to do so in her stead. "A political tripod is the weakest of all political structures, but, in our case, it is a necessary one. Dividing the continent into three nations of equal power keeps all of us in check. One nation would not antagonize a second nation beyond a certain point in fear of allowing the third nation to exploit advantages and then come in for the coup de grace. Peace, as fragile as it may be, may be maintained that way."

"I'm aware of the zero-sum game theory," Impa nodded, although her brows were still creased in a frown; she had not made the step beyond the confines of such a theory. "But Valent has already attacked. Does this not destroy the tripod?"

"Not necessarily." Zelda put the lid back upon the china teapot, closed her eyes while allowing her back to remain upright. "This war only proves that Valent's power has grown to a point it stands a good chance – or, at least, they believe they stand a good chance – of keeping both Hyrule and Gerudo in check. I consider it a symptom rather than an outright disease, for the lack of a better metaphor. This war merely shows that one leg of the tripod, the one representing Valent, has grown increasingly long, to the point of possibly tipping over this tripod; the tripod itself has not been tipped over yet."

The light of understanding was beginning to glow in Impa's eyes; Link was already one step ahead and knew what his princess had foreseen.

"Like myself, the generalissimo fears the destabilization of this tripod. It is entirely possible for a joint Hyrule-Gerudo effort to be able to defeat Valentine forces." Then memories of the briefing came back, the realization that they now had three Valentine superweapons to contend with, and Zelda sighed. "Even if it is…unlikely right now." She opened her eyes once more, blue orbs roaming from Impa to Link to Leonore. "The question, however, is how far we should push the advantage. Ganondorf would not risk either the utter destruction of Valent or weakening it to the point where Valentine sovereignty is challenged. There always needs to be a third nation to keep the other two in check. Should our joint effort go too far, should our generals become too ambitious, should our soldiers charge on ahead unbridled, we risk the destruction of Valent, which would result in a very simple head-to-head contention between Hyrule and Gerudo…a scenario where nothing can keep either of us in check but the other." The long-winding explanation left the princess short of breath; she inhaled deeply before finishing, "Neither the generalissimo nor myself can guarantee survival – much less victory – in such a situation, and it is a scenario both of us are actively avoiding."

Looks were exchanged, some of them passive, others uncomfortable. The more military-minded wondered just how easy it was to determine how "far" they were supposed to allow the war effort to go, while the more politically-minded wondered how well the populace would accept anything short of an unconditional surrender from Valent after everything that had happened. The easier method, of course, would to be to engage in a war of attrition, all three nations at a stalemate with no obvious strategic advantage or incentive to conduct further hostilities…but all four in the room also knew that that kind of scenario generally required years to build up.

None of them wanted to see this war drag on for that long.

"Then we still have a decision to make," Impa noted, ever pragmatic; she still had not identified the exact reason why there seemed to be bad feeling over this decision, but she also knew that this was a subject they _needed_ to approach, whether they liked it or not. "The question as to whether or not we should volunteer Agent Link." She looked over at the Hylian agent, who stood impassively and stoically, knowing full well what the other two women in the room knew, that Link would volunteer and wouldn't object if it was the wish of both of his superiors, the princess and the director.

But for now, Impa received no answer. Leonore merely looked silently away, her gaze wandering towards the princess' bedroom, while Zelda busied herself with pouring a warm cup of tea from the teapot to a teacup, and, just as quietly, consumed the aromatic liquid just as she was consumed by her thoughts.

There would be no easy answers tonight.

* * *

Generalissimo Ganondorf knew that there were invisible limits to his power, limits that he could still see as clearly as he could the walls of his study, a small sanctuary that he frequented more often than his formal office. Even in war, he could not, for example, upgrade MICO beyond what it was now, an intelligence coordination agency. Any attempt to make MICO as versatile as Joint Intelligence would not be accepted by the Gerudo war pavilion – who sported a certain degree of contempt for them – and would probably provoke the ire of the governing lords of Gerudo's many provinces.

The truth was, of course, that he himself would likely not allow it. An agency such as Hylian Joint Intelligence, he knew, was a political liability that could easily turn into a springboard into a controversial, if not devastating, political power play. Even the Hylian mass media enjoyed painting Joint Intelligence as a shadowy, morally-ambiguous government cabal, and senatorial disapproval towards their near _carte blanche_ regarding all matters concerning national security was hardly a secret. While Ganondorf knew that he _could_ upgrade MICO to the level of Joint Intelligence and not have to worry about corruption, he also knew that such a guarantee would only last so long as Emi remained director of MICO. There were many women who raised him as a child, but Emi had always felt more like an older sister than an aunt, only some years older than Ganondorf himself. Her loyalty was something he could count upon, which was something that could not be said of so many others in Garuda's halls of power.

Of course, despite childhood familiarity, now that both of them had grown and were occupying government positions with a clear difference in authority, Emi never allowed herself to stray from formalities in front of the generalissimo. Ganondorf wasn't even sure if she could stray from formality, _ever_. He didn't think this was something the car bomb had taken from her; she had become increasingly paranoid, irate, and pragmatic ever since joining the Gerudo intelligence community, her first station being – of all places – South Gerudo.

Some of the things seen there were difficult to forget.

"General Meryl suspects many things," Emi admitted, her scowling voice sounding scratchy as it always did, but echoed by the walls of Ganondorf's study, a spacious office occupied more by stuffed bookshelves than furniture, sitting on the other side of his desk, a piece of furniture that took up six entire square meters of the room. Her mind strayed for a split-second, recalling the adage about "bigger desks". Even the desk of the generalissimo's private study was so large that he rarely used more than half of it at any given time, especially with his preference for neatness and organization, but both of them knew that it was aesthetically necessary, if only for the purposes of conveying the fact that he alone held the greatest authority in Gerudo. "But I've no word that she knows for a fact that we deliberately delayed the briefing. My contacts with Minster Sydney share my views; the general would've contacted her had she truly believed something was amiss."

And Ganondorf, seated in a specially-carved wooden chair on the other side, merely nodded contemplatively, his expression revealing that he was half-distracted, absorbed in a sea of thoughts. "Make sure it remains that way," he responded. "I'd rather keep our brainstorming sessions to ourselves." He sighed, one laced with just the barest signs of impatience and frustration. The study offered no windows, but the grandfather clock to the side showed that the time was eight o'clock in the evening, hours after the briefing earlier had been concluded.

Emi, of course, knew exactly what the generalissimo was talking about. This practice had been going on for years now, the director of the Military Intelligence Coordination Office deliberately calling meetings an hour or two late so that she had the time to consult the generalissimo first. The two would privately form their own plans and possible responses to any situation before actually bringing them up to the war council. While Ganondorf was not at all aversive to a good plan suggested by the league of Gerudo's most distinguished generals, he was also aware that the Gerudo war pavilion often was not as productive as he would like. It was better to make decisions ahead of time before having to pretend that he was giving the advice of the military staff some thought at the briefings – advice that more often than not were inadequate and unsubstantial made at military briefings that were coated with far too much politicking.

"Understood, generalissimo," the director nodded curtly; her eyepatch slipped just a bit with that motion, although not enough to reveal her missing eye, and she suppressed a scowl as she slid it back into place. "Will that be all?"

Ganondorf nodded, his gaze moving from the director to several pieces of paperwork that he had on his desk. "Begin making preparations to brief and equip Agent Link with anything he may need in his upcoming infiltration mission behind Valentine lines."

A thoughtful beat. "Yes, generalissimo." Another beat. "I would like to point out, however, that Princess Zelda has not agreed to your plan. And I am not certain she's likely to deprive her only native security option here in Garuda…" She was silenced, however, as Ganondorf raised a hand just slightly from the table.

"Emi," interrupted Ganondorf softly, but seriously. "Her Highness will agree to our plan. Her capital lies in ruins, the fate of her father is unknown. Her armed forces are scattered across the country, and most of them have no idea where everyone else is. They have problems communicating with us or anyone else due to enemy ECM." He pushed himself away from the desk, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. "Princess Zelda does not have a choice, not when her country is on the brink of destruction. _We_ can still afford to wait. _She_ cannot."

It took a moment for Emi to carefully weigh the possibility that Ganondorf would be correct before she nodded curtly again. "Very well, generalissimo," she began. "I shall have my staff get…" The ringing of a cell phone within Emi's robes interrupted her, and she snatched it out irritably in the same way someone might snatch at a flying bug hovering too close for one's liking. "Yes?" she snapped, undoubtedly disorientating whoever was on the other side of the line, before her expression softened along with her voice. "Yes, I will be sure to inform the generalissimo."

It was from his chair that the generalissimo looked at the director expectantly, still leaning back against his seat, as the latter silently slipped the cell phone back into her robes. They locked gazes for one moment, two stoic eyes matching a lone one.

"Her Highness has decided to agree to your request," was all Emi said dispassionately.

Ganondorf merely nodded and allowed a small grin to surface on his dark lips.

* * *

**Exoria File #008  
Emi (Abridged Career Service Vitae)**

"Name: Emi  
Rank: Major General (OF-7)  
Age: 59 (born September 12, 1447)  
Birthplace: Irawan, Gerudo  
Service Number: 4469385  
Date of Enlistment: October 3, 1468

Background: Only child of mother Rayna and unidentified Valentine father; mother killed in suicide bombing in Irawan on March 15, 1466. Attended Garuda First University while working part-time as Honorary Page to then-Lord Ganondorf, earned Bachelor's Degree in Criminal Law; tuition paid for by state in accordance to Honorary Page Program.

Career: Joined Gerudo army under personal recommendation from then-Lord Ganondorf with commission to first lieutenant. Promoted to captain for valorous actions during riot-suppression campaign in Bloody Friday of 1468 shortly after enlistment. Command a task force during Mura Siege in 1471; subsequent investigation cleared all charges of wrongdoing and resulted in promotion to major. Involved with various investigation efforts prior to promotion to colonel and transfer to MICO in 1488, and personally handpicked by then-Chairwoman of Armed Defense Staff Gertrude as tactical commander of MICO classified operations in South Gerudo. Rotated to Garuda and promoted to major general in 1497. Appointed as Director of MICO in 1500 following resignation of then-Director Debbie. Survived car bomb in 1501 with loss of left eye and damaged throat.

Assessment: Loyal, intelligent, and dedicated. Considered by staff of MICO to be one of the most capable directors of the office's history. Possesses firsthand experience in field operations and leadership positions in both military and intelligence capacities. Known for a disciplinarian command style, and values experience, talent, and results over personal preferences. Noted to be confrontational and critical of both personal staff and military peers. Medically evaluated for paranoid personality disorder; results negative.

Recommendation: Continued service as director of MICO.

Last updated December 3, 1506"

* * *

Author's Note: There comes a certain point in fan fiction – or any form of fictional material, really – where one has to decide where one stands in the sliding scale of realism. I am, for example, perfectly aware of the actual impracticality of some aspects I have introduced into the story in my attempt to remain faithful to the games, one of which, obviously, is the gunsword. Now, we have a quadruped walker. While it's not exactly a Gundam, I cannot say that armored walker vehicles are what modern day military theorists consider to be the most practical of weapons. That said, though, I fully admit that, sometimes, it's just _cooler_ that way. I never claimed that this was an accurate portrayal of modern war, after all. So while you entertain yourself with more gunsword goodness and mobile walking tanks, you can look forward to all sorts of craziness later on.

For those who have yet to catch on, yes, we've reached the point in the story where the "prologue" is over, and now Link has to go through three different dungeons to fight three different bosses. This will be followed by an intermission, a plot reveal of some kind, before he has to tackle another set of bosses, then move onto the final boss. This should give you an idea of how far we are down the story. While I can't tell you anything beyond the three bosses right now, I can tell you that the order they will be fought in will be Anansi, Jormungand, and Quetzalcoatl. And, yes, I am watching all of you diving towards Wikipedia to try to see if you can figure out what the names are referring to.

I am sorry, once again, about the delay in writing Chapter Seven, and while I'm pleased that I did not spend as much time writing this as I did Chapter Six, I fear I must admit this is a phenomenon that will not be remedied anytime soon. My next college semester will be starting soon, and it is going to be the most difficult semester out of my program, so I will be hard-pressed for time to actually continue writing at my rapid pace. That said, though, most highly-rated fan fiction seems to update rather slowly, so perhaps this is a good sign? We'll let time tell.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

"Your Valentine is adequate. I don't think you'll have any problems linguistics-wise."

Link chose not to reply to that in any way, verbally or otherwise. It was, superficially, a neutral gesture, but if he had to be completely honest, his lack of actual response was probably motivated by a mild irritation towards the woman who now sat on the other side of one of the tables of the briefing rooms in Fort Garuda. If his eyes showed it, then he was glad that the sunglasses prevented Emi from picking it up. He had already figured that she would probably be sparse with her praise and scathing towards imperfection, but considering that his exchange with Emi in Valentine had been completely fluent, Link admitted that he was slightly irked at the fact that she seemed to only have deemed his performance as "adequate". Where else was she supposed to find a non-native Valentine who spoke High Valentine devoid of any immediately identifiable regional accent and possessed a vocabulary as expansive as that of his Interlingua?

Sitting at just a slightly greater distance from the two of them on the side, Leonore – leaning back against her chair and with her arms crossed – seemed to be trying to hide a somewhat amused smile as she quietly decided some face-saving might be in order. "Judging from preliminary reports, the bulk of Valentine forces in the Gerudo theater of operations are of Sud Valent origin," the director of Joint Intelligence offered, and Link took silent satisfaction in watching the director of the Military Intelligence Coordination Office develop a light scowl at what she must've undoubtedly interpreted as butting in, if not one-upping her. "They speak also speak a variant of Valentine, with a clipped, harsher accent than those of Nord Valent. It's not anything major – Interlingua and High Valentine are just as common amongst them – but we want to do as much as we can to keep you as inconspicuous as possible. I'll work on that with you later."

Nodding in compliance, Link understood what Leonore was trying to get at. The information, of course, was almost two decades old, and it was unlikely even Leonore knew to damning detail as to what changes may have happened linguistics-wise in the southern half of Valent. Still, dialects and accents had a habit of sticking around, and twenty years was hardly a long period of time in the history of language. It was better to have the capability to speak like the enemy and not use it than it was to need the capability and not have it.

Perhaps in irritated retaliation, Emi produced a cell phone from her pocket, glanced at the clock before staring stoically at both Link and Leonore. "I have a staff meeting in a few minutes here," she said simply, not bothering to cover some of the scowl that had made it into her voice. "We're going to have to continue this later. In two hours?"

"Sounds fine with me," Leonore replied, and the three intelligence officers stood in unison, adhering to proper etiquette. Sitting even further away in one corner of the room, Major Jessica, having been watching over the proceedings, also quickly stood half a beat later. The last two hours had actually been spent in this briefing room – one that was nearly identical to that of the briefing room they had been in three days ago when MICO first revealed the existence of the superweapon Anansi – reviewing key information that would be vital to the upcoming infiltration mission and making the proper preparations.

The reasoning behind Emi's choice of locating the briefings here in Fort Garuda was not lost on either Link nor Leonore, both of whom knew that it had little with being polite to their foreign guests by going to them instead of having them come to MICO Headquarters. It was merely a pragmatic issue of not wanting the Director of Joint Intelligence, the head of a very potent intelligence agency, to take a look at the very heart of Gerudo military intelligence. Allies as they were, secrets remained secrets, and intelligence directors were very jealous in keeping them.

"How are things going in the interrogation department?" Leonore asked, neatly piling her papers into a stack as Jessica began to move forward to join Emi from where she was in the rear.

Emi gave a slightly subdued look that nonetheless screamed "none of your business" to Leonore, but she deigned to answer anyways. "There's one prisoner that's a member of special forces, but he's been keeping his mouth shut." She shrugged. "I don't think we're going to be able to get anything reliable out of him. There's progress with the other grunts, but I don't think they actually know anything substantial." It was clear that Emi knew what Leonore wanted, but she still allowed herself a brief lapse – probably contemplating whether or not she _wanted_ to entertain Leonore – before finishing, "I'll be sure to inform you if anything important or relevant to this operation comes from the POWs."

Nodding and detecting the clear impatience in Emi's voice – probably mixed in with the not-quite-so-veiled desire to see them gone – Leonore merely spoke politely, "Then we will return in two hours." She looked to Link, who nodded curtly back as both of them began to move towards the set of doors on the left side of the almost-empty briefing room.

Jessica, as was expected of her, stoically moved her way towards the two Hylians – she had, Link noticed, adopted her serious and stoic persona once more – apparently preparing to escort the two guests back to their rooms. She stopped in her tracks and turned towards her superior, however, when Emi suddenly called out, "I believe Director Leonore and Agent Link can find their rooms without your assistance, Major Jessica." Her choice of words, not to mention her tone in general, gave a clear indication that she was impatient and annoyed. "I want a word with you." She cast a not-so-subtle look towards Leonore and Link that clearly told them it was time for them to go. They wasted no time in vacating the room.

It was out in the hallway, however, that Link suddenly recalled a string of thought that had been bothering him previously, the possibility that Emi might be one of the aforementioned individuals giving Jessica a difficult time in MICO due to her ascension to her rank and position via family connections. Even as he trailed Leonore, an idea came to his mind – one that he knew very well was formulated from his heart instead of his head – and he quietly allowed the distance between the two of them to increase until the DJI turned a corner, and Link silently crept his way back to the briefing room. It was time to do some eavesdropping.

Pressing himself against the doorframe, Link managed to catch their conversation just as Jessica finished what seemed like a short sentence ending in "Colonel Teresa". Peeking through the gap between the door and the doorframe, he couldn't help but feel that the entire scene looked almost like a student having an unpleasant discussion with a schoolmistress; Emi clearly seemed less than impressed, while Jessica had her hands folded in front of her and bowed her head slightly in…what was it? Fear? Shame? Distress?

"Then I will have a word with her," said Emi impatiently, and it was clear that her annoyance was directed not solely at Jessica. Her remaining eye narrowed upon the MICO major, and Jessica barely managed to contain a flinch even as the director pointed a finger at her. "But as much as I can enforce discipline, the core problem still lies with _you_. I cannot help you if you're unwilling to help yourself."

Jessica hung her head. Her voice was so quiet that Link could not hear it from the distance, but lip-reading served him well. "I'm sorry, ma'am," she whispered.

Sighing, Emi crossed her arms as her one eye closed in what seemed like tired exasperation, and expression not unlike an impatient and unsympathetic mother towards a child who has gotten into trouble not for the first time. "What's done is done," she allowed herself to mutter. "I'll try to salvage the rest. In the meantime, continue heading up security detail for Princess Zelda."

It was almost difficult to catch from where Link stood from meters away, but Jessica almost seemed horrified at the notion, if the barest widening of eyes, the slacking of the jaw, the upward tilt of her head, and a slight rise in her shoulders – all executed with the barest, near-invisible of movements – was any indicator. It was clear that she realized her initial reaction, and attempted to pretend it didn't happen by freezing up and slowly relaxing once more, perhaps knowing such a show would not be appreciated by her superior. Emi, however, was too attentive and sharp to let that slide past her notice.

"Oh, don't be stupid, foolish girl," the director of MICO snapped irritably, clearly annoyed by such an immature and thoughtless reaction, voiced or not. "What do you think you'll prove by going back on the front? MICO's not involved in heroics, only intelligence-gathering and investigation. It's supposed to be a desk job, which is why your father put you here in the first place. Abandoning your current duty would only make the situation worse."

"Yes, ma'am," Jessica whispered meekly and weakly in reply after a moment of silence. Her cheeks burned scarlet with shame.

Turning away, Emi returned her attention to a stack of documents and folders beside her, organizing them. On the other side, a door slid open as the first of MICO's upper echelon officers began to trickle into the room. "That'll be all," she muttered in dismissal of Jessica, apparently not wishing to deal with her – or her issues – any further. The major herself stood there for just a moment longer – perhaps in uncertainty or in shock – before finally bowing in what Link knew to be a salute of sorts within MICO. When she saw that the director still directed her attention at the papers before her, not bothering to respond, and when it was evident at least half a dozen MICO officers were here, she decided to quickly vacate the room with her head bowed. Link whipped his head around the corner of the doorframe to hide himself from view before he could catch the colors of Jessica's face; he wondered what would be more appropriate for her right now, red of shame or white of shock.

The thought of hiding himself clearly didn't really cross Link's mind, as Jessica discovered as soon as she walked dejectedly out the doors of the briefing room, and it was only after she shut the doors behind her that she suddenly realized that the Hylian agent was leaning against a nearby wall, watching her expressionlessly. Her face betrayed a great deal of surprise, and her physical reactions – almost appropriate for that of a klutz, complete with a nearly comical step back – seemed to indicate she had reversed to another personality…probably the one that Link had run into the other day during morning prayer. He liked to think that it was her genuine personality as opposed to any of the personas she put up to make herself more professional, but it was difficult to tell with Jessica.

"You were listening?"

Link nodded, then tilted his head quizzically in the direction of the briefing room where Emi was.

Jessica picked up the hint fast enough. "She isn't one of them," she spoke quickly, as if to dispel Link's thoughts as swiftly as possible. "Director Emi doesn't care where we come from as long as we can get results. She's…" She stopped mid-sentence to take a deep breath, perhaps to compose herself or fight down a wave of rising emotions. "She's been trying to protect me from the others for a while now. I…I owe her so much."

And that was the end of the conversation. Apparently, Jessica had not the presence of mind to continue, not when she had just survived her superior giving her hell, and Link decided that he was just going to let the subject drop, admittedly uncertain of what to think. The trip back to the diplomatic suites, therefore, was sufficiently awkward, and Link actually found himself quite relieved when the two of them finally stepped out of the elevator, in which Jessica quietly bowed out before returning to the security office after a token goodbye. The Hylian agent himself ended up stepping into Leonore's room after knocking, and found the director reading what were probably abridged and censored reports given to them by MICO in her suite, seated on one of the sofas surrounding the living room table.

Leonore did not look up from her papers or show any sign of emotion until after Link sat down on the seat opposite the director, preparing for what he expected to be language coaching; it was the director, after all, who had taught Link Valentine in the first place, and it was only natural that she would be the one to roughen his accent a bit to make him sound more Southern. "I thought I told you not to be too sneaky around here," were Leonore's first words when she finally peered over the sheets of paper in her hand and at Link; she didn't look entirely upset, just a bit exasperated, like a mother who realized she was not being entirely successful at breaking her child's semi-bad habit.

Donning what was best described as a neutral expression, Link merely shrugged; honestly speaking, he wasn't entirely certain what to express. There was, of course, the fact that he admitted he wasn't exactly thinking with his head when he decided to stay behind to eavesdrop, but he didn't necessarily think it was entirely _wrong_ either.

Then, again, if Leonore noticed Link had been spying on the conversation, it was not at all unlikely that Emi knew as well. Perhaps prudence should be more carefully exercised next time…if there ever was going to be a next time.

Sighing, Leonore closed her eyes as one hand slid the sheets of paper back onto the table and the other rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Don't get involved in it," she murmured, trying to relax her eyes a little, before opening them seconds later. She wasn't sure how much Link would take that to heart, but as the two began to work on Link's accent, she personally hoped he wouldn't try to butt into business that wasn't his own.

They had enough problems as was.

* * *

Military logistics personnel were rushing to and fro in Fort Garuda as they scrambled through the halls and staircases, their swift and almost panicked demeanor clearly indicating that there was a priority protocol taking place. Most of them were only just sprinting for their stations, while others were acting as couriers with paperwork and equipment; however, most of them formed a flow in the stone-and-steels halls by the dozens, all of them moving in a general direction that led deeper into Fort Garuda. This was understandable, as personnel reporting to their stations from outside Fort Garuda would obviously be headed inwards, while couriers would be trying to deliver information to higher echelons located deeper into the fort. Officers ran while fortress staff and soldiers made way.

A formation of three individuals, however, was an exception to that rule. Not only did they _not_ rush – their gait was hurried, but their pace was decidedly at a walk, not even a jog – they clearly went in a completely opposite direction of the flow, headed _outwards_ amidst the current of red, brown, and black uniforms rushing past them. One wore the all-black suit-and-tie of Hylian Joint Intelligence, one wore the white-and-red robes of Gerudo's Military Coordination Intelligence Office, and one wore modest civilian clothes suitable for the office. And yet despite moving against the flow, they moved with clear motivation and importance, and even in the rush, the frantic Gerudo officers were sure to make way and not bump into them.

"Valentine forces have been launching an offensive from the northern border since two days ago," Jessica was already explaining, leafing through a stack of intelligence reports in her hands that was already beginning seem like a bit of a paperwork mess, translating and summarizing the formal and coded intelligence reports into something that was abridged more understandable. "Gerudo forces have been putting up a solid defense in the west, so, utilizing what we suspect to be Fort Regner just north of the Gerudo-Hyrule border as a staging area, they initiated a significant operation with the goal of seizing the Gerudo city of Zubara."

Link and Leonore, trailing the MICO major who led the way, exchanged a quiet look. Fort Regner was practically north of the mid-point of the Hylian-Gerudo border. The fact that Valentine forces were using it as a staging area was bad news for them; it effectively meant that – at least where the southern regions of Hyrule were concerned – Valentine forces had managed to make a push through half the country. Not for the first time did Link wonder just how badly the defending Hylian forces were holding up against the Valentine onslaught.

Not having noticed the shared look of the Hylians behind her, Jessica went on with her rapid briefing, turning down another, less-crowded hallway. "Zubara is a city that offers no immediate defensive or offensive value for us, but represents a strategic target for Valent. Zubara is relatively easy to defend, and has three natural corridors further into Gerudo. The city would effectively be a springboard for Valentine forces to initiate all operations from the north."

The group quickly turned at Jessica's lead into a door marked "Men's Changing Room". Link found it slightly amusing that neither she nor Leonore showed any reservation or hesitation in entering, and slightly less so as he found the changing room to be remarkably smaller than he had expected a military changing room to be in Fort Garuda. But, then again, there number of men in Gerudo was incredibly small, only two percent of the population. Chances were that there would be no one inside…that, unit cohesion regardless of gender was supposed to be the aim of all military forces. That said, it wasn't as if the two percent of enlisted in Gerudo needed a massive changing room to themselves.

This, however, was clearly not an enlisted changing room, but one for officers; the lockers were noticeably larger, and there were even changing stalls in the center, each one having their own mirror, bench, and curtain. Already, Link, through a rapid and practiced routine of hand movements, had already swiftly removed his jacket, tie, and gunsword holster as the three stopped before one of the changing stalls. Jessica, meanwhile, offered Link a plastic bag in her hand. They all knew what it was: The Valentine special forces uniform that Gerudo interrogators had taken from one of their POWs, the one Link would be wearing to dress as the enemy and infiltrate their lines. "We've tailored it to fit your size, so it should be a decent match," Jessica reassured him, looked at all the equipment, then blushed as she added, more out of courtesy than anything else, "D-Do you require assistance?"

A kind gesture, but unnecessary. It wouldn't be the first time Link had change into full tactical uniform and gear by himself. He shook his head and politely relieved Jessica's arms of the load before disappearing behind the curtain. Leonore herself just seemed wryly amused, although there was room for doubt as to exactly _what_ she was amused at, Jessica's flustered offer for helping a member of the opposite gender change, Link's seemingly obliviousness towards a flustered Jessica. The gesture, however, was betrayed only by the slightest twitch at the corner of her lip, which hinted at both mild interest and possible disorientation.

Collecting herself and allowing the blush to flush out from her cheeks, the major took a deep breath, spoke, "Just twenty-three minutes ago at 1812 hours, Valentine forces committed Anansi into the battle over Zubara after two days of unsuccessfully attempting to rout defending forces. The generalissimo, in consideration of this specific operation, has given orders to buy as much time as possible, but preliminary reports indicate that Gerudo forces in the area are taking heavy losses, and are also preoccupied with evacuating all remaining civilians from the area." Again, Jessica inhaled deeply. "They are not expected to be able to win this engagement."

Not entirely surprising news. While the majority of all Gerudo forces had finally been recalled, only around half of them managed to arrive at their respective battlefronts, meaning that the current defending forces were probably insufficient to hold out against an attack from Anansi. That said, even _if_ they had been fully armed, stocked, and prepared – and had the benefit of more manpower – a triumphant defense would be uncertain. Regardless, Link _did_ worry just a bit; that Anansi had just been in Leh four days ago and was now in Zubara caused him to contemplate the possibility that there _might_ be two – or even more – of those mechanical spider-walkers in Valent's arsenal.

He decided to throw that train of thought out of his head fairly quickly. It was something too horrible to consider, and it wasn't going to help his mission any. Not now, anyhow.

On the same subject, though, Link knew perfectly well how much the deployment planning and execution had become a logistical nightmare for the brass and staff at Fort Garuda. Recalling every woman back to their respective army groups, arming and supplying them with enough weapons, ammunition, and rations to last at least two weeks of combat, trying to keep track of where Valentine forces had advanced, keeping track of defending forces already at the border, establishing supply lines and transport routes, and actually sending the troops there was a tremendously overwhelming and time-consuming undertaking, and Link knew he did not envy the job of the logistics staff. It was hardly surprising that many of the battlefronts remained undermanned despite the war entering its sixth day.

And then he wondered just how well things were on the Hylian front. If six days were not entirely enough for all of Gerudo's military forces to deploy even with strategic coordination from Fort Garuda, how were Hylian forces, scattered across the country, faring without any instructions or direction from the Haven?

"There is a silver lining for us, however," continued Jessica, who fought down another blush as the sounds of fabric skimming across skin – the sound of clothes either being taken off or put on – jogged her imagination a bit, and she looked at her reports with more emphasis than was actually required. "Valentine single-mindedness in their attempt to conquer Zubara created a strategic blunder that we had been exploiting. For enemy forces to reach Zubara from Fort Regner, they would have to traverse approximately seventy-six kilometers. Without setting up strategic defenses or fronts, Valentine forces had basically attempted to establish a direct highway, a single route between Zubara and Fort Regner which they are using to deploy reinforcements. Defending forces have been exploiting this weakness by surrounding the highway and launching sporadic attacks on Valentine forces in transit."

That seemed like a poor, if not inexcusable, lack of judgment and strategy on Valent's part. It was effectively a seventy-six kilometer salient that led directly into an enemy formation. On one hand, it was a very vulnerable formation that offered little strategic advantages other than immediate mobility. On the other hand, such a move reflected just how badly and impatiently Valentine forces wanted Zubara. Not for the first time did Link recollect Zelda's words about how the Valentine invasion strategy made absolutely no sense…and not for the first time did he ponder the true meaning and motive behind the Valentine aggression.

"MICO speculates that in the likelihood Valentine forces gain supremacy in the area, Anansi will be quickly pulled back further behind enemy lines instead of remaining in Zubara. However, to do so with minimal risk, Anansi is likely to have to take that seventy-six kilometer-long highway back to Fort Regner before attempting to move anywhere else to for resupplying, the same way it came in. In other words, the superweapon's range of movement will be limited."

It sounded chancy, but even Link admitted that this situation was a godsend. With the kind of mobility Anansi could accomplish – mobility that he had witnessed firsthand – any sort of advantage in terms of figuring out where the superweapon was going to be was worth the risk. They might not get another break like this again.

"A transport helicopter will take you to Samani Military Airbase forty kilometers north of Garuda, where a light fixed-wing military transport aircraft is currently being prepared to airdrop you near Zubara as soon as you arrive. We expect that you will arrive at the area of operations six hours from now." From behind the curtain, Link heard the ruffling of papers; Jessica's voice subsequently sounded like she was reciting the rest of her statement from memory as opposed to actually reading it. "Your mission, once you land, is to infiltrate enemy lines while maintaining your cover as a member of Valentine special forces, investigate the whereabouts of Anansi, locate the superweapon, and sabotage it while it is being repaired and resupplied." There was a pause, and Link could only guess that she had turned to the older woman in the room, a guess that was confirmed as he heard Jessica ask, "Director Leonore, do you have anything you wish to add?"

"Her Highness is being briefed at another location, but will join us shortly." Leonore's voice seemed slightly wry, as if she found it somewhat entertaining knowing that it was probably one of Link's foremost concerns; he personally was glad that she couldn't see him rolling his eyes behind the curtain. "The Sud Valentine accent we were working on probably won't be necessary now, but keep it in mind just in case. Also, do try to stay away from actual Valentine special forces; chances are they have special codes and traditions that we're unaware of, so you don't want to be caught red-handed with a wrong gesture or turn of phrase." The last three words were uttered with a bit of amusement; all of them knew full well that Link wouldn't actually talk if he could help it.

The sound of a door sliding open, followed by the sound of very familiar hurried footsteps, alerted Link of a not at all unexpected presence. This was only confirmed the skidding of boots across the floor indicated that Jessica was now standing to attention before the newcomer to the room. "Your Highness." The MICO major sounded sharp and on alert. "I believe you have been briefed on our current situation?"

"I have," Zelda's voice came from behind the curtain as her footsteps came to a halt right in front of Jessica and Leonore. A moment of silence followed, her eyes presumably trailing to the curtain. "Is he changing?"

"He should be done any moment now," Leonore replied, then, almost teasingly, poked at the curtain twice, causing it to flutter slightly. "You can stop taking your time, Link. It's not very gentlemanly to keep three ladies waiting like this."

No sooner had the director withdrawn her finger, however, did the curtain finally pull away, and Link stepped out of the stall to the slight surprise to the three ladies waiting outside. For one thing, the uniform seemed to be a perfect fit, but size was not the only thing that seemed to accommodate Link well. The green uniform of Valentine special forces was combined here and there with dark brown straps, holsters, and pouches, each storing various pieces of equipment, accompanied by gloves of the same color. The gunsword tucked away into the hip holster was already looking like a standard part of the uniform. Multi-pocketed trousers were tucked into brown combat boots, and protective pads covered the knees and elbows. What seemed to be the most characteristic component of the uniform, however, was a rather long green beret, its end a tip as it drooped down behind him to his shoulders. The end product somehow just seemed like it matched Link rather well, and Zelda herself experienced a rather strange sensation of…what? Nostalgia? She honestly wasn't sure herself.

The sunglasses, almost interestingly enough, were not present alongside his uniform; had Zelda and Jessica not spent a few more seconds than necessary staring in hypnotic silence at the display of his eyes, they may have noticed that his sunglasses was partially tucked into one of the pouches. It was a bit more difficult for Link _not_ to notice this time, who threw a somewhat difficult look at Leonore; she, in turn, looking vaguely entertained more than anything else, merely smiled at the display and cleared her throat, successfully pulling both young ladies back to reality. Zelda seemed sufficiently irked – mostly at herself, as she had figured she wasn't going to fall for _that_ a second time – while Jessica just blushed and – while not looking away – cast down her gaze and suddenly seemed very fascinated with her fingers.

As if in an attempt to save everyone some face, Link turned to his princess – Zelda was, once more, back in her customary regalia of white, blue, and purple fabrics – and offered a polite bow of his head.

"Those sunglasses may have to stay on." It was clear that Leonore was trying to hold back a laugh. "You're going to attract _far_ too much attention without them, especially since there won't be any shortage of female servicemen in the Valentine special forces." She did, however, distract herself as she stepped forward, and – to Link's slight chagrin and embarrassment – began to make minor adjustments to his uniform, tugging his combat operations uniform here, tightening a strap there; while Link was sure Leonore was just trying to make him look more like a _proper_ member of Valentine special forces, the entire situation still felt uncomfortably similar to a mother making last-minute adjustments to a suit a child had put on for some important event. He admitted there was a bit of disappointment, too; the clothes had fit on so naturally – as if he had always worn this combat uniform instead of his Joint Intelligence suit-and-tie – and he had half-expected to have gotten it down perfectly.

After Leonore finished one last tug on the chest portion of the uniform and took one step back, admiring her handiwork, Jessica, seeing they were now set and ready, cleared her throat, nodded, "It's time to go. This way, please."

Attracting more than a few unusual looks on their way from the men's dressing room to the elevators due to one of their number wearing the uniform of their enemy, the ensemble of four eventually found themselves ascending the floors of Fort Garuda in relative silence, each preoccupied by their own thoughts as the car shot its way towards the floor of the fort helipads. The hallways that Jessica led them through were largely empty save increased patrols, the combined effect of both soldiers being shipped out to the frontlines and a live protocol being handled in the lower levels below.

The hallways leading to the west helipad – the same helipad and hallways Link and Zelda had come in through five days ago – remained unchanged, but it carried a lonelier air as their footsteps echoed through the corridors. The click-clack of four pairs of footwear, however, were not the only sounds that dominated the halls; the faint but growing sound of rapidly-spinning helicopter rotors told them that they were getting closer to their destination.

It was at the last T-junction, just before they stepped out the open arch to the helipad, with the black Gerudo transport helicopter already in sight, when Princess Zelda suddenly stopped in her tracks, causing Link and Leonore – who had been following tightly behind – to come to a halt as well. "Major, Director Leonore," she addressed both ladies, and waited for Jessica to turn around properly before finishing, "May Agent Link and I have a moment?"

It was Jessica and Leonore who exchanged quiet looks this time – it was not a customary movement, but it was as if both of them sensed that they were suddenly sharing similar lines of thought – but neither seemed in any frame of mind to argue. "Of course, your Highness," Jessica gave a quick, curt bow as Leonore pursed her lips and looked away. "You must excuse me, however, for stressing the importance of time."

"I understand, major," came the reassurance. "I will not be long."

Again, Jessica looked curiously but expressionlessly at the princess, allowed her gaze to be sidetracked by Link for just a moment, then turned her attention back to Zelda, and – one polite nod later – she and Leonore turned and moved on towards the helipad, clutching at their clothes and hair even as they stepped out into the range of the gales the helicopter's single massive rotor was brewing. With the hallways mostly empty and the nearest patrols dozens of meters away, both Link and Zelda were effectively alone.

This was a moment that was probably just as difficult as Zelda had imagined it. Or, perhaps, in a way, it was _less_ difficult than she had initially assumed, but it was also probably the result of a sudden realization that there would be a need for a change of plans. Like it or not, she had become attached to Link in more ways than one, and she was very much aware that the excess fluttering of eyelids and a gaze that made micro-movements that wandered from point to point across his face betrayed a great deal of nervousness and anxiety that she barely managed to keep hidden with her. Deep down, though, she knew the likelihood that Link would probably not need some sort of emotional baggage before embarking on what was possibly the most dangerous mission he had ever received. He didn't need it; no one did. After all, Zelda was crown princess, and she knew – better than anyone else – that she could not burden her own subjects with the perception of weakness or uncertainty.

So pride kicked in along with cool, emotionless intellect as she took a breath to clear her mind, closing her eyes for just a moment to allow her brain to focus. It was time to move onto pragmatic matters.

"Link," she breathed, the softness of her voice possibly a compromise between both her feelings and conspiratorial necessity, "there's something I need to give you." And, that being said, her hands produced a silver flash drive, a small digital storage device no larger than a lighter. Although she had fully intended to use it eventually upon receiving the device from Doctor Hal just mere minutes before the war broke out, she didn't expect to actually have to use it this early on, or under these circumstances. As things were, however, Zelda considered this turn of fortune a godsend; Zelda may very well have missed Hal had their appointment been scheduled half an hour later, and it would deprived her – deprived _Link_ – of a very essential tool.

And so the princess closed her eyes…and pinpricks of light suddenly began to wink into existence around her, subdued but beautiful sparkles that were descending around her like gentle flakes of snow, light that began to course into the flash drive clasped between her hands.

Link actually knew about this. Not much, but – like almost everyone in Hyrule and Gerudo – he knew this particular piece of public knowledge, that Princess Zelda was the only known living individual to possess abilities that were clearly supernatural. Exactly what her abilities were was an unknown factor, and there were always rumors about it, including stories of the late Queen Marsha conceiving Princess Zelda through holy virgin birth instead of being impregnated by King Robin II, of a closely-held state secret concerning mutation and evolution that the princess just happened to symbolize, of documents hidden away in the most secure vaults at a secret government facility possibly run by Joint Intelligence, and even of her Highness being the product of a genetic manipulation program. Her special status provoked arguments from both the scientific and religious communities, who interpreted Zelda's abilities in their own ways to use as ammunition against the other side. That said, Link could count most of the rumors as baseless and ridiculous, but while he admittedly did not know exactly what these supernatural capabilities were supposed to be, he knew that with the princess now openly using her powers – "openly" being the last word anyone would use to describe _anything_ pertaining to her abilities, whether it be the near-unseen displays of her power or government avoidance towards the topic in press conferences – this was probably very serious and very important.

It was an affair that took twenty seconds at most. The minor light show slowly began to subside, the miniature stars disappearing around Zelda. However, on the other hand, the flash drive continued to glow with an ambient light. _No_, Link told himself as he squinted, looking more carefully at the device. It wasn't the flash drive that was glowing…but the air right _above_ it.

The light slowly began to take shape, optically clarifying from what was initially a mere fog or cloud of light into what was beginning to definitely look like a three-dimensional hologram…something that was definitely beyond their current technological levels. What was even more surprising was the fact that hologram was simply materializing out of _nowhere_. The flash drive did not seem to have any device that would even remotely hint at anything capable of producing light, never mind a hologram, and yet – by the end of ten seconds – after a rain of mathematical symbols and equations ran through the cluster of faint light, a miniature figure began to make itself obvious in the light.

The curves of the body – if not the long hair – revealed the gender to be female, one that seemed to be wrapped in modest white robes glowing with faint light. Although the figure was only about a quarter meter in height, its features were clear and precise, giving it the very appearance of a human had it not been for the matter of color. In fact, now that Link looked closely, he couldn't help but feel that the digital avatar resembled, in a way, Crown Princess Zelda.

The hologram of the being seemed to be asleep at first…until, barely three seconds later, its eyelids fluttered open, revealing a set of clear eyes that curiously looked subtly left to right…before settling the gaze squarely upon Princess Zelda.

"Well," the thing – Link decided that, for purposes of reference, he was, for the time being, going to call it a _she_ – actually began to talk at conversational volume…despite the fact that he did not see any speaker on the device. In fact, the voice sounded fairly _authentic_, as opposed to digital and disembodied. "That felt surprisingly…ticklish."

Puzzled was the best way to describe the reaction Zelda had towards the present word choice. "Ticklish?"

The woman of light shrugged in what was clearly a nonchalant gesture. "Best adjective I could come up with to compare with human perception, your Highness. You're going to have to forgive me on that. That, along with my choice of first words."

"I…see," Zelda managed. It was the first time Link had seen the princess genuinely uncertain…at least, awkward in a social, non-critical context. His eyes continued to follow the hologram in silent surprise and disbelief. "How has your boot up sequence progressed?"

"Fantastic, as far as I can tell," the hologram continued to quip, tapping her foot impatiently. "There were two hundred and twenty-six…" She stopped mid-sentence as mathematical symbols ran across her skin of light, snapped her fingers twice in the air, then resumed her sentence, "Pardon me, two hundred and twenty-_eight_ minor coding errors. That value is very much within the acceptable range of human error. I've generated minor modifications to these errors to compensate. No discrepancies in the core coding detected." She sounded almost sarcastic as she clapped her hands, which actually produced a cracking sound as what almost seemed like electricity zapped in between her hands. "Round of applause to Doctor Hal, please."

Zelda was already beginning to feel very awkward with this conversation as she nodded and attempted to sound placating. The lady in her hand was far too high-spirited and quirky, something that Zelda had _expected_…but not to _this_ extent. "I'll be sure to convey…" she started, but was almost immediately cut off.

"Now isn't _this_ interesting?" the artificial intelligence – Link could make that much of a guess himself – seemed to be greatly intrigued as her gaze became distant and a cat-like grin appeared on her lips. "Your Highness, I have some rather good news. Hylian Joint Intelligence databases are still up and running."

"You have access to them?" The princess sounded hopeful.

The reply was appropriately deadpan. "No. Access implies I can actually get in, which I can't; I can access the lower tiers, yes, but I don't have the proper access codes for the more encrypted databases. I'm just saying that I'm looking at the house from the front lawn and the lights are on inside." A pause, then the AI added in a voice that clearly seemed as if she was showing off, "I _am_ programmed, however, to automatically connect with various government servers and, if possible, download information. The Holy Grail at the Haven is down – no connection whatsoever, so I'm guessing they either have the entire databases powered down or destroyed…or _removed_, but that's unlikely – but the servers at Joint Intelligence are still running efficiently."

Refusing to allow herself to seem _too_ impressed – or perhaps not feeling very impressed in the first place – Zelda merely nodded gravely as she queried, "You _do_ understand the current circumstances we are in, yes?"

The AI's features straightened for the first time as she seemed more serious when compared to her playful demeanor before. "Yes, your Highness," she nodded solemnly as she became all business, and Link curiously observed AI's "hair" sway along with that motion, something that strangely caught his attention more than anything else and, by extension, made the AI seem more _real_. "Data downloaded from the National Meteorological Agency has consistently pointed at the fact that the Kingdom of Hyrule is currently in a state of war. Four point twenty-three seconds into startup mode, this unit activated DEFCON parameters to compensate."

It was not unfair to say Zelda was incredulous. "The _National Meteorological Agency_?" she echoed in disbelief.

"Yes, your Highness." The rising, lilting tone the AI took on indicated that she was quite pleased to incur such a reaction out of the princess. "As far as I can tell, the 23rd Mechanized Battalion has been using their servers to communicate battlefield intelligence…presumably due to the lack of the Holy Grail at the Haven."

"Can you contact any other Hylian elements?" The Hylian sovereign sounded appropriately hopeful; if a line of communication could be established with Hyrule's fighting forces, then it was potentially possible to begin planning for an appropriate counterattack.

Perhaps realizing that the news would be disheartening, the artificial intelligence's voice took on a more sober tone. "All attempts have resulted in failure so far, your Highness. Communications with the 23rd Mechanized was possible only with access to the National Meteorological Agency's servers." She took a second to contemplate her options, then added, "I _could_ leave a message on their server, but they're going to have to check it if we are to expect any reply."

Pursing her lips, Zelda quietly murmured something akin to "I see" as a hand went to her chin in deep thought, and it seemed as if she was about to follow up on the chain of thought in a her discussion with the AI, but the sound of a throat clearing turned both Zelda and the AI's heads towards Link; he was becoming increasingly uncertain as to why he was even here, and being sidelined for the last two minutes was not something an intelligence specialist enjoyed, especially when it seemed that he had been promptly dismissed as being merely part of the room. The princess, in turn, cleared her throat to recover from her flustered realization of the situation, then extended the silver flash drive towards Link, the figure of light hovering closer to Link as she did so. "Link, I'd like you to meet Durandara. She is the first sentient artificial intelligence to ever be created, the brainchild of Doctor Hal, powered by a combination of data clusters and magic."

Durandara twisted her face into an expression of clear distaste, and she flickered into a slightly redder hue. "With all due respect, your Highness," she spoke while her hands went to her hips, looking at Zelda in what was almost disapproval, "I believe the term '_magic_' is very much inaccurate. I would rather point to the possibility that your ability to manipulate data and technology to a certain extent is the result of a yet-to-be-researched genetic phenomenon that will eventually be explained when scientific levels achieve a sufficient level. As they say, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." Making what was probably the equivalent of a sigh for an AI as she shrugged, she closed her eyes before turning to Link with a playful swing of her legs before opening them at the Hylian agent, and immediately she was all playful smiles again. "Regardless, hello, Link. It's most certainly a pleasure to meet you. Judging by the information I've just downloaded from Joint Intelligence, I must say that your personnel dossier is very impressive, especially for someone of your age." Durandara slowly unveiled her cat-like grin once more as she bent over, put a hand to her chin, and studied Link with a curious stare. "Also, I think you look cuter in real life than your photograph."

All things said, Zelda was glad that she wasn't the only person feeling awkward now – Link clearly looked as perplexed as she did – as she suddenly felt defensive towards Durandara's mannerisms. Well, perhaps "defensive" wasn't the right word as much as it was "embarrassment". An artificial intelligence born from her magic was now dropping hints at her own bodyguard? Not entirely unexpected, the princess admitted, but she still felt a great necessity to divert the AI's processing power elsewhere. "Durandara, I'm uploading newly updated information on Hyule's current stance with Gerudo in the joint military effort, as well as specifics on a recently approved operation." She began to connect the flash drive Durandara was projected from into what seemed like a small handheld computer.

Sighing and shrugging coyly, Durandara directed her attention towards Link once more. "Girl never gets any rest, not even after being awakened for the first time. I'm impressed you survived her, Agent Link; her Highness must be one heck of a slave driver."

Now Zelda was becoming to be irritated. "Durandara…" she started.

"Yes, yes, your Highness, will strive to be more polite in the future," Durandara interjected quickly and whimsically, mathematical symbols streaming down her body again as the download of data commenced and she quickly organized, cataloged, and analyzed the information flooding into her subroutines.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Zelda actually seemed somewhat apologetic as she turned to her interim bodyguard. "I'm sorry, Link," she shook her head. "Durandara can be a bit…high-spirited."

The Hylian agent merely nodded in an understanding and forgiving manner. True, the AI seemed much more quirky than Link had expected – he was still attempting to mentally cope with the fact that what Zelda stated to be the first actual advanced sentient intelligence to have ever existed was not an emotionless, droning entity, but actually had a personality of her own – but it wasn't as if Durandara was being offensive or dislikeable.

"Now _this_…is a rather interesting predicament." Link and Zelda turned towards Durandara again, who seemed to be staring off into space with a coyly curious expression on her face; one hand was on her hips while another one cupped her chin. "And one _hell_ of an operation. Sending one man to do a job that would logically take two or three battalions to accomplish, one-man army jokes notwithstanding."

"Do you see any problems in this operation, Durandara?"

The hologram made a rude sound. "Several dozens of them, yes." She sounded appropriately snarky. "This is tantamount to a suicide operation." She shrugged, added in a more pragmatic tone, "However, I concur with the conclusion: A sabotage mission may very well be the most effective choice of action…and one with the highest chance of success, given the alternatives and the data we have so far." Her eyes turned back to the Link. "And Agent Link is most certainly the most suitable candidate for such an operation out of what we have so far."

"Then I'm assigning you to Agent Link. You will give him tactical and electronic support as he carries out his mission."

Although she didn't seem confrontational, Durandara did cross her arms over her chest as she cocked her head quizzically to the side; again, Link found his attention caught by the motion of her hair, and he felt that perhaps it was this small bit of detail that somehow made Durandara seem more _real_. "Your Highness," she quipped, "this isn't a complaint, but I'd like to remind you that I _am_ designed for electronic warfare, and not tactical field support."

"Yes, but if we do not deal with these Valentine superweapons, the point of electronic warfare is moot."

Durandara seemed convinced as she shrugged. "You have a point there," she agreed, then swung herself around once more as she cheerfully looked at Link, to whom Zelda passed the silver flash drive; the metal landed gently in Link's gloved hand before being clipped onto his vest. Strangely enough, despite the trading and moving of the flash disk, the hologram of Durandara did not move along with it, and he wondered if the metaphysical representation of the artificial intelligence was now an existence of her own. Either way, it felt both like a lucky charm and an indispensible piece of equipment now. "Well, then, it seems I'll be having a fun time working with you, Agent Link. I hope you're good company." She grinned. "Rest assured, you're safe in my hands like the Hero of Time blessed with the protection of the Oracles."

It was Zelda's turn to sound coy as a small, uncharacteristically mischievous smile stretched her lips. "If I remembered correctly, Durandara, the Oracles had the gift of clairvoyance." Her tone was almost challenging.

"By manipulating tea leaves." Again, Durandara hardly seemed amused as her voice took on a deadpan and sarcastic tone, the grin slipping from her lips. "A _truly_ accurate method. I'm quite sure the Oracles were not capable of decrypting enemy codes and communications, not to mention prediction of enemy fire patterns. I believe it may be prudent _not_ to compare me with mythological figures."

Smiling patiently like a parent would towards a pouting child, Zelda quipped, "And I am sure you will have all the chances you need to show off your capabilities to Agent Link. So behave for now, please, and start running simulated scenarios for him until he gets to the area of operations."

Durandara did not seem completely convinced that "running simulated scenarios" was what the princess _really_ wanted her to do, but she dutifully obeyed anyways as her hologram faded and winked out of existence, leaving nothing between Link and Zelda once more.

And now that the hologram was gone, the princess felt somewhat vulnerable again. The pragmatic issues were now aside, and it left her with only emotions and sentiments that she was not entirely certain how to deal with. There was a great deal she wished to say, yet little time to say it. And the feeling of foreboding plagued her, a feeling that this may very well be the last time she saw her dedicated interim bodyguard.

So Zelda merely bowed her head slightly, whispered just loud enough for Link to hear, "I've already lost a bodyguard due to a covert operation. Please come back safely, Link."

For all his stoicism, Link admitted that a delay before his quiet, solemn nod felt appropriate, a lapse in which both of them had a chance to collect themselves and figure out their bearings. And, knowing that he had been dismissed, that it was time to do the necessary, Link offered a respectful bow of his head – a formal, elegant gesture – before spinning on the heel of his boots and stepped through the archway leading to the west helipad, leaving Zelda standing in the safety the indoors provided her from the gale of the helicopter rotors.

"Is there something you aren't telling me, Agent Link?" Despite not appearing in her holographic manifestation, Durandara's voice was clear in Link's ears as soon as Zelda was out of earshot. Determined not to pay the question any heed, he distracted and reminded himself that, at some point, he was going to have to figure out exactly how the artificial intelligence worked – what she could do and what limits she had – but when Link didn't immediately provide an answer, she egged on, "Come on, spill the beans."

Link wasn't entirely sure if he felt humored or irritated. Regardless, he lightly rapped the flash drive with his knuckles as a means of response.

"Right," Durandara's reply was as amused as it was sardonic, "will be quiet now."

Despite having met for only five minutes, Link was starting to gain the impression that getting Durandara to remain quiet may be a rather daunting quest, as if his mission was not difficult enough already.

One hand tightly held onto his long Valentine beret as he stepped onto the helipad, the winds buffeting his clothing as he joined Leonore and Jessica, both of them similarly holding onto any potential loose pieces of clothing and apparel. Seeing that the Hylian agent's issue had been dealt with, Jessica quickly led the two members of Joint Intelligence to the rear hatch of the helicopter. Despite not going to accompany Link to Samani Airbase, the major nevertheless climbed aboard the aircraft through the back, undoubtedly headed for the cockpit to confirm last minute details with the helicopter pilot. This action alone left Leonore just a few moments to spare with her agent, both of them standing beside the military transport helicopter. The armor shielded them from the noise of the engine – which, surprisingly, was generally louder than the sound of a spinning rotor designed to stealthily make as little noise as possible – allowing Leonore to speak with Link by just raising her voice instead of outright shouting.

Although the DJI indeed seemed concerned and worried – at least, as concerned and worried as Link knew Leonore would ever allow herself to appear – she did seem a bit sterner in comparison to the Zelda's soft-spoken demeanor…or maybe it was just the effect of having to talk over the helicopter. "Do you remember your list of objectives in priority order?"

Link nodded; days of reading through and memorizing his mission packets and intelligence reports had allowed him to commit almost every detail of the mission to memory. And he was fairly confident that – in the unlikely event his memory should fail him – Durandara was programmed to remember the mission parameters as well.

Rather than seeming satisfied, though, Leonore only seemed to become a bit more worried and anxious from Link's answer, and the agent wondered if he had just fallen for a trick question. "I need to add one more onto the very top of that list," the director's voice became just slightly softer, and Link had to concentrate to catch what she was saying. "Survive."

That caught Link off-guard a bit; he had always known Leonore to be a professional leader who – despite being competent enough to not _waste_ life – was experienced enough to know that certain results required sacrifice. That she was suddenly placing a disproportionate concern on the life of an agent was a bit…unexpected.

His quizzical and inquisitive look was answered by what seemed like a small, matronly smile from Leonore. "I know you don't like to lose, but…not getting yourself killed is the best thing you can do right now. I don't think anyone doesn't realize that this is close to a suicide mission; you're up against an army-killing tank. No one's going to look down on you for not being able to accomplish what a battalion can't."

Okay, so that made a lot more sense. Granted, it was a sacrifice he had been prepared to make – no one went to work at Joint Intelligence and fully expected to eventually live a long and prosperous life – but Leonore's was pragmatic concern…which was absolutely fine by Link. He even appreciated a little…but, like so many other things, he wouldn't be telling her that anytime soon, so he merely nodded dutifully.

Leonore seemed a sigh, but she gave what amounted to a grim smile as her hands came up, placed them upon Link's shoulders, and gently squeezed them; he barely felt the pressure with the sewn-in shoulder guards on his combat uniform on, but the gesture itself was not unwelcome. "Hyrule's going to look like a very different place," she murmured. "Be careful, Link."

"Agent Link!" the voice of Jessica came from the side, interrupting any reply Link may or may not have made, and both Hylians turned to see the MICO major run down the ramp of the helicopter, joining them. "You must depart now; operations at Samani Airbase are waiting for your immediate arrival."

Nodding approvingly, Leonore removed her hands from Link's shoulders, allowing him to give a respectful salute in turn. It seemed both oddly fitting and oddly out-of-place for reasons that alluded him, but he felt better doing it anyways. Despite his want to come back to this Hylian council of war, the agent was fairly realistic in his outlook; there was no guarantee he was ever going to make it back…so that gesture – barring cursing himself with an actual farewell – seemed to be a reasonable compromise. Jessica's jog came to a stop as she turned and stood right beside Leonore, the two of them watching as Link turned, came around to the rear of the helicopter, and climbed up the small ramp.

And, to the agent's subdued but pleasant surprise, standing upright in the middle of the helicopter, strapped and anchored tightly to the floor of the hold, was the familiar shape of Epona; the motorcycle still sported a few scratches from its previous encounter with Valentine forces, but the Gerudo mechanics – whom Link had allowed a short time to take a look – guaranteed that the vehicle was running smoothly even without repairs, and was in top shape. Aside from that, they also provided a full load of gas and reloaded the ammunition…meaning it was back on the road for Link in style.

As the hatch behind him began to close, blending his silhouette with the shadows inside the helicopter from Garuda, Link allowed himself a small smile. Looks like this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

* * *

**Exoria File #009  
Languages**

The 1407 Hyrule City International Convention allowed for the countries on the continent to finally agree upon an official international language, Interlingua. From henceforth, all official documents that were to be made available to the public domain were published in Interlingua, and the same language became taught in every educational institute on the continent; at the same time, every country had the right to keep their original languages and dialects. Hyrule, whose language had originally been Interlingua, was at the forefront of this change. Gerudo also took the opportunity to streamline its language system; prior to the 1407 Hyrule City International Convention, Interlingua was spoken by a marginal majority of the country, but most of the provinces spoke its own different regional dialects. The convention provided an incentive for the country to find common ground, a platform upon which every man, woman, and child could make themselves universally understood to their countrymen. Resistance to the international legislature, however, met initial resistance from Valent; although most of the country's educational institutes taught Interlingua as a secondary language, Valent already possessed its own unified language that only varied slightly by region, and saw no need to adopt another language that would replace the Valentine language in their newspapers, textbooks, and official documents. It wasn't until a decade later that the legislation was finally fully carried out. Today, the average Hylian speaks only Interlingua, a Gerudo woman speaks a regional dialect with individuals from her birthplace and Interlingua with everyone else, and a gentleman from Valent generally has a slight favor for Valentine over Interlingua.

* * *

Author's Note: Buckle up; this is going to be a long author's note.

I am, first off and again, apologetic over the time it has taken to write this chapter. Writer's block notwithstanding, I would like to remind everyone that I _am_ currently in college, the toughest semester of the entire program _has_ started, and I'm trying to keep up. The updates, therefore, will not be speeding up anytime soon, although I will try to do my best to hurry. Chances, however, are that it'll take as long to update as this chapter has…if not _longer_. I'm afraid there's little I can do about this; I do have a life, after all…contrary to popular opinion.

I was actually very pleased – and very thankful – that readership seems to have picked up. Although I'm guessing many do not leave a review after reading, looking at the traffic page in my account interface has shown readership from countries I've never expected, including Croatia, Greece, and Peru. I do want you all to know that it makes my day to receive a glowing, substantial review, but knowing that people are reading what I'm writing (and hopefully approving as well) makes me warm and fuzzy inside too.

A special treat for you: Along with Link getting into his usual green outfit – which is surely a sign that the story has now officially picked up – people are probably wondering what Link looks like, now that his clothes seem to have gotten a modern revamp. I've done a not-so-very-well-done sketch of Link in his Valentine special forces outfit, actually. Frankly, I'm not entirely pleased with it – the rest of my gallery will show that I've done _much_ better work before – but I see this more as a practice sketch than anything, a way to get my hand warmed up after months of not having properly sketched. Hopefully, it provides you with a visual aid. Please note, however, that the gunsword is not exactly the way I want it to look like, but I'm not a mechanics designer, so you'll have to forgive me. The link is here in its censor-avoiding glory: [http] ysionris [dot] deviantartcom [dot] com/art/Link-Special-Forces-152962505

Of special note is that I will be copying-and-pasting special reviews into my author's notes now, along with my replies to them. I want you to know before I start, however, that just because other people have reviews posted on here when yours aren't doesn't mean that I don't appreciate your reviews _less_, but probably because there are points they have made that I wanted to address, and I feel a need to provide that answer to everyone. I _do_ read and appreciate good reviews – whether they be of praise or of criticism – and I _do_ reply to most of them…although, admittedly, you're more likely to get a reply if your review is long and fleshy.

Here goes:

Exodus5: _Nice chapter but I don't understand how an army group losing 700 men or in this case women makes that much of a difference. An army group is made up of multipule armies which is then made up of 1 to 3 corps which are also made up of 1 to 3 divisions. Divisions are made up of 10 to 20 thousand men. An average sized army group would be around 200 to 250 thousand strong._

I'd like to thank you for your meticulous observation regarding this chapter; you're reading quite carefully, and I'm very appreciative of that. Thankfully, I do have coherent answers for you, so please sit tight.

First off, Gerudo has a different method of calculating unit strength. As opposed to Hyrule, which uses terms such as "battalion" and "regiment", Gerudo uses a very loose form of unit classification, namely, the rather archaic "army group". I'm trying to make it so that, despite there only being three countries, there are different ways of classifying the sizes of different units. Thankfully, all nations will be using metric, so that's something you don't have to worry about.

Second, another fact is that the war has barely finished its second day by the time the briefing was held. This is a logistical problem: Armies cannot simply appear out of nowhere. Armies, in fact, need to be recalled – many of Gerudo's soldiers were on leave across the country and needed to report to their corresponding army groups – armed, equipped, briefed, and transported – and when you're transporting a bulk of soldiers to the border in a massive all-out war defense, you can bet that transport helicopters are _not_ going to be enough, not to mention you're transporting them across a country that's _mostly desert_. Troop deployment simply does not work that fast, even in modern times. (The only exception to this rule in history was just before the Battle of the Bulge in World War II, where – after the failure of Operation: Market-Garden, which left the Allies with spearhead leading absolutely nowhere that had to be defended – Allied high command ordered all efforts to be concentrated on transporting material to the defending forces utilizing the Red Ball Express. This feat of transportation allowed for Allied troops to be deployed within days to the frontlines – although it did not solve the supply and logistics problems, and the Allies fought most of that battle without enough ammunition or weapons – and its effectiveness has yet to be matched in modern warfare, even in both Gulf Wars.) Long story short, however, it also means that there aren't enough Gerudo soldiers defending the border at the moment (most of them are still being equipped in their appropriate army bases), and the loss of seven hundred men two days into the war means there's going to be a massive hole in your main line of resistance.

Third, when an army group of more than seven hundred soldiers suddenly disappears within five minutes in a world where weapons of mass destruction have yet to be invented, you know you have a major problem.

Izanagi Mikoto: _I gotta say, I'm lovin your story so far, which I stumbled across purely by chance. You've got a solid story, and I love the modern feel to it._

_As for practicality, I don't know about bipedal weapons in reality, but I saw an anime called Gasaraki that portrayed a realistic view towards such machines, and I would've bought it if it happened in reality. I guess what I'm trying to say is that your portrayal of these superweapons feels somewhat grounded/believable if you're worried about realism. I certainly saw no real problems with it. It's not like you dropped in a dragon ball c__haracter. That would be insane._

_In terms of realism, I'm more worried about the varying level of military power the three countries hold. The fact that nothing can even dent the walker worries me more than the fact that it exists. Then again it could turn out to have reactive armor or electromagnetic shiels. However, personally I don't mind; this is just my opinion in debating realism. As far as the power relationship - keeping the three countries in check, I don't know if I really buy it at this point, given how Valent is wiping the floor with the other two countries. If anything, this story has shown how a lead in technology can completely destroy such a balance, and I wonder if Ganon is really concerned at this point. Zelda thinks he is, but I wonder__ if she's being a little naive._

_Question: I vaguely remember you mentioning there might be fantasy elements.__ How much? Like is there magic?_

_Will other races show up? Like I remember there was mention of the Zorians. I forgot the other __races, except the Koriki._

_I should also be upfront that I am a Link and Zelda shipper, or that I like that pairing more than others. Actually, I don't know if shipper is the right word since I've read stories where Link winds up with everyone else. Anyways, I know your story isn't about romance, but I did love the scenes that focused on the individuals, like the scene where Link took off his sunglasses and Zelda realized he was hot. The seeds have been planted and it would be a waste not to explore. On the other hand, I don't hold any illusions that Link and whatever female character you pair him up with are gonna declare their undying love for each other. While I really like the political and war feel, I also love the scenes that are focused just on characters. You write go__od length chapters and quality._

_I don't know if you know motorcycles, I don't, but you certainly made me believe you did when you talked about Link and Zelda riding it during their escape from Hyrule capital. Awesome work. Can't wait to see the next update._

First off, I would like to thank you for submitting such a long and well-thought review. You have officially made my day, and I'm quite happy about it. Now, time to address your points.

One of the things about the power levels each nation holds is the fact that - supposedly - all three nations are supposed to keep each other in check through roughly-equivalent power. One of the big points in the current storyarc, after all, IS the confusion as to HOW Valent could've gotten such a head in technology. It basically came out of nowhere and blindsided both Hyrule and Gerudo, neither of which have successfully penetrated the veil of secrecy Valent has threw on itself for nearly two decades; neither Hyrule nor Gerudo had ANY idea what Valent was capable of, in the most basic terms. In fact, addressing this specific issue is a major plot point, and it will eventually be revealed.

For your question about me including fantasy elements...I can't reveal much. I can say that there will be something that seems like it's magic in the next chapter...but I can't tell you whether it's REALLY magic or not. You'll have to see for yourself. Also, there will be other races. If you've kept up on the Exoria Files, you'll see that Exoria File #005 makes a mention to the Zoras. They are still alive and well, and will be making an appearance in Exoria. Sadly, however, Gorons no longer exist - why they don't will eventually be explained - and although I won't confirm it outright, you shouldn't hold out hope that many of the other races are still out there. But who knows; one thing about writing is that you're never really sure about the details of the future, so we'll see.

I honestly know almost nothing about motorcycles, actually. I've only rode on one twice in my life as a passenger, and I personally think they feel rather haphazard. Before I wrote Chapter Three, I actually did not know where the accelerator was, so I had to do my research. I hope it actually came out as presentable.

I'm actually quite glad that you like my interaction scenes. I admit that I do write them better than I do action/combat scenes, but having to write about nothing-in-particular can be trying for me sometimes; I'm just somewhat glad I'm getting it right somewhere along the line, though. As you've probably figured out, I'm better at writing things relevant to the main plot.

Inbi: _I must say, I am extremely impressed with the quality of this story and it's style of writing. You, Sir, put my abilities to shame. To SHAME._

_I love how close to canon you have made this. Particularly Link's silent demeanor. I had one of those I-Can't-Believe-I-Didn't-think-Of-That moments. Kudos for pulling it off spectacularly, I'd imagine myself having a lot of trouble with a silent protagonist. I also enjoy the Triforce references. Valent, it's national color of green and specializing in air forces. Hyrule, it's color blue and specializing in the navy as well as intelligence. Gerudo, it's color red and specializing in pure ground force. Simply genius._

_I look forward to Link's "dungeon crawling". I'm fascinated as to how you've modernized this, or simply how you've molded it to fit into a modernized world. I am particularly curious as to Valent's behavior. As well as Ganondorf's, no less. I can see him having abandoned the quest for ultimate power in this world, but he still seems awfully... friendly._

_I can't wait to see if and when the goddess' ancient magic is brought into the plot, and how the characters interpret it. Has Valent already tapped into this? Perhaps that explains their revolutionary advances?_

_I look forward to finding out!_

I'd say that you're too generous with your praise, but I guess every author must indulge in the feeling of having one's ego stroked. In any case, I thank you for your thoughtful review.

I am, for starters, glad that someone has begin to note a few of the smaller things that I've put into the story, such as each of the nations, their colors, and their corresponding specialties. In fact, with that chain of thought, I dare you to think even deeper into this, because if you get to a certain point, I suspect you may be able to predict quite a number of things up to the halfway point of the story. Of course, I'm afraid I won't spoil anything, but it's always fun to bait your readers and keep them guessing.

On the same vein, I also won't elaborate more on Valent's actions, Ganondorf's motives, and how this is connected to canon; you're just going to have to read and find out...and possibly do a lot of guesswork on the way. But it does seem that you'll do fine without me dropping loads of hints. So do keep it up, and please keep on following this piece of work; I have a feeling that I'm not going to let you down narrative-wise.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

The difference between the four-engine military transport aircraft and the single rotor military transport helicopter was extravagant. The latter was forty meters long, eight meters high, weighed twenty-eight thousand kilograms, could carry fifty soldiers at a time, cruised at a maximum speed of nearly three hundred kilometers per hour, and was powered by a three-engine rotor; the former, on the other hand, was fifty-three meters long, seventeen meters high, weighed one hundred and twenty-eight kilograms, could carry over one hundred troops at a time, cruised at a maximum speed of over eight hundred kilometers per hour, and was powered by four massive turbine engines.

That, at least, was the difference from the outside. Inside, Link did not feel much of a difference as he sat on the side of the plane's cargo hold, securely fastened to his seat as it bumped its way through what was expected to be the last of local turbulence; with so much cargo crates fastened and secured to the side, the extra size really didn't make much of a difference to him. Granted, there were key characteristics of the interior of the two aircrafts that Link could pick out with his mechanics-interested mind aside from simply aesthetic difference, but, otherwise, it mattered little. Nothing could be found in the immediate area where Link sat that couldn't be found in the helicopter he had rode on four hours ago.

Except maybe anxiety. Gerudo was never known for being able to make good planes, but the turbulence he had endured had been the worst he had ever felt. Link half-expected the plane to fall apart, and was not entirely surprised to learn that aviation crews were part of an all-volunteer unit. It took some nerves to ride – never mind _fly_ – one of these things.

Although initially told that the trip would take six hours, the plane was expected to make the trip in five; one hour of the entire operation since leaving Garuda was spent flying to Samani Airbase by helicopter and loading all necessary materials onto the plane, but weather conditions between Samani and Zubara, which had been expected to hinder the flight, expedited their flight time to a mere five hours…that, and the plane crew's insistence that they push all four engines to the limit to travel at the plane's maximum flight speed when possible. Which no doubt contributed to the bumpy ride.

There was nothing to see out the window. It was a moonless night, and there were no clouds outside. For various reasons, one of them to avoid radar detection, the transport plane had actually been flying at low altitudes of no higher than five hundred meters. Regardless, a look at his wristwatch – something that had been thrown in along with the outfit – revealed that they were nearing the end of the journey.

Footsteps from Link's left, rapidly approaching from the front of the airplane, caught his attention, and he looked up to see an enlisted Gerudo soldier approaching him, wearing a helmet with visor and oxygen mask, and a jumpsuit. From the details in the uniform, Link could tell that the flight suit was actually army issue; although Gerudo _did_ have its own air force, most of the military transport aircraft were used to complement their ground forces, so the transportation corps fell under the purview of the army.

The crew member actually had to raise her voice to make herself heard above the engine noise; although the hold was pressurized, all four of the plane's engines were running at a roar as they were pushed to their absolute limits…although, if the fading volume was any indicator, it seemed as if the plane was finally slowing down, a sure sign they were close to the landing zone. "This is as far as we can go, Agent Link," the soldier, a sergeant, said as she braced one hand against the wall of the hold, leaned forward closer to Link's ear. Interestingly, the Hylian agent noted that the sergeant's long hair was tied in a knot, and secured and fastened to what seemed to be a hook on the back of the helmet, presumably to prevent it from tossing about should the interior depressurize. Undoubtedly a design unique to Gerudo helmets, given the nation's gender demographics. "Any closer and we'll definitely be detected by enemy radar."

Link nodded and reached under his seat to pull up a handheld electronic mapping device, looking to see their current position on a digital map. They were mere kilometers away from their LZ now, and had apparently just crossed the Hylian border, continuing north. The idea behind that move was that – despite Valentine forces having successfully taken Zubara after heavy but futile resistance against Anansi – it would still take Valentine forces at least a day to properly secure and fortify the area between Fort Regner in Hyrule and Zubara in Gerudo. It meant that there was a fair chance that a Gerudo military transport plane flying below radar coverage could avoid immediate detection to a certain point, drop off its passenger, and flee before any form of anti-air capabilities could be brought to bear.

Either way, though, it was clearly time to go.

Undoing the straps keeping him in his seat, Link managed to stand up, cautiously moving over to the rearmost of the plane; although the turbulence had already stopped some minutes ago, he could never quite get over the feeling of shaky surprises when it came to Gerudo aircraft. At the very back of the plane, tightly strapped to the deck of the plane with its fore pointed towards the airplane's nose was Epona, having made the transition from helicopter to airplane along with Link at Samani Military Airbase. The motorcycle was going to be his way around the operation area for the near foreseeable future, but, for now, Link dwelled not on that, but on unlocking every one of the six straps that connected with floor hooks on the plane meant to secure cargo crates instead, even while the sergeant went over to a nearby control panel to make last minute checks and adjustments. It was just short of a minute later that all the straps were undone and stowed away; leaving them there would've increased the danger of them whipping out of control when the rear hatch opened and the hold depressurized. Getting back onto Epona – not having rode the scout motorcycle prototype for nearly a week – was actually a rather comforting feeling, like being reunited with an old friend. If the motorcycle had been sentient, Link certainly hoped the feeling would be mutual.

Confirming that Link was now on Epona and had engaged the brakes, the sergeant, standing by the control panel, called out, "Three minutes to drop-off. Opening rear hatch!" And, with some force, threw the metallic lever beside the control panel.

Even before Link could see the night sky from the sliver of a gap provided by the opening of the transport aircraft's rear hatch, chilly winds of Hyrule's moderate winter were already sweeping through the entire cargo hold, fluttering through the clothes he was wearing and tarpaulin wrapping around the batches of cargo to the rear. Beyond that widening rift was the darkness of night…and what seemed to be a barely visible horizon. In fact, as the rear hatch finally completed lowering itself into a ramp, Link could see the earth below them – the distinctively flat plains of Hyrule – rolling beneath the plane just ten meters below. They were flying dangerously close to the ground, and he could not quite shake the feeling that there would be a sudden, violent bump through the plane as a hill or some other geographic feature would strike and scrape the bottom of the aircraft.

The pilot either _really_ knew what she was doing…or had a form of courage that was bordering on insanity.

"You're back in Hylian territory," the Gerudo cargomaster was practically yelling from where she was standing just so she could make herself be heard to Link above the roaring winds buffeting the cargo hold, "so hopefully the home field advantage means something to you. Forward scouts tell us that Anansi was in the area just three hours ago. It shouldn't have been able to get too far. No apparent Hylian resistance, though, so be careful."

Meaning that he was going to be alone, without support, and deep within enemy territory. _Impossible odds_, Link reminded himself, but, for some reason, that made it all the more appealing. It was far from any heroic sentiments, Link knew, than it was the simple desire to challenge the chances. Not that he actually expected it to happen; he was too realistic for that. That said, however, in a near-suicidal mission such as this, he knew that this kind of mentality was one of the ways to keep his spirits up against the odds.

"Remember to use the proper IFF codes when you eventually need extraction," the cargomaster concluded, already ready to move back over to the side of the hold so she could make sure the drop would be handled as smoothly as possible from her side. "We'll be there to ferry you back home. Good luck, and good hunting, agent."

Link nodded from where he sat on the bike, revving the engine just twice to ensure that he had a good feel for how Epona was going to respond; the details in controlling his descend and his deceleration on this motorcycle was going to determine whether he was going to land safely on the ground from a transport aircraft…or end up as several meters of tomato juice splatter. That Link preferred the former was of no surprise.

"If you want, I can download information on the local geography," a familiar female voice said with a slightly challenging air, "and tell you where and how it's best to land." Durandara, without materializing into her hologram form, undoubtedly trying to show off as she spoke directly into his eardrums. As much as that sounded useful, when Link shook his head – this was the kind of thing he liked to do by hand – the AI sounded almost haughty. "Don't come crying to me if anything happens, then."

"Ten seconds to drop off," the cargomaster called out, checking her watch even as she kept eyes on Link, making sure that he was well and truly ready for the jump even as Link shifted Epona into reverse; he needed to opposing momentum to cut down on the speed that the aircraft was generating, or the landing was going to be excessively rough. "Status okay, all green."

Link took a deep breath, held it. While it was hardly the most dangerous stunt he had ever performed, he admitted to himself that he had never exactly rode a motorcycle out of a cargo plane flying at low altitudes before.

"Prepare for drop off," came the voice of the co-pilot over the speakers; undoubtedly, those in the cockpit where also keeping track of the best geographical position in which to dump Link back into Hyrule, relying on both rough topological data as well as positions of known Valentine forces. "Countdown: Five, four, three, two, one."

Right on cue, Link fed power to Epona as the wheels fought to catch traction. Adrenaline pumped through his body as he tried to time it to his comfort and what he felt was the optimum acceleration to which he could achieve the fastest reverse. Undoubtedly, Durandara probably could've calculate this with greater accuracy and speed, but Link tended to think that skills diminish the less one used them.

Altogether, with the angle of the ramp, the speed that Epona could achieve in reverse gear, the electronic speedometer indicated that Link achieved just shy of one hundred kilometers per hour when he suddenly felt the characteristic lurch and weightlessness, a sensation that clearly told his both wheels had just cleared the ramp, and now had ten meters of nothing but air below them. Factoring in wind resistance and gravitation forces, and Link figured that he could add another ten or twenty kilometers per hour to that reverse thrust.

That still didn't diminish the problem at hand, though; as slow and low as the Gerudo pilot had attempted to fly, the cargo aircraft was still flying at four hundred and twenty kilometers per hour…meaning, upon landing, Link was going to hit the ground while traveling at a forward velocity of approximately three hundred kilometers per hour. It was well within Epona's maximum speed…but, then again, most motorcycles weren't exactly meant to achieve the speed instantly following a ten-meter drop from a fixed-wing military transport aircraft.

Link quickly compensated, shifting Epona back into forward drive and feeding as much power as he could in an instant, the wheels swiftly coming to a halt from its reverse spin and beginning to move the other direction, hopefully smoothing out the landing and preventing the motorcycle from skidding violent when it hit the ground. The instruments within Epona must've realized that it was a freefall, because the suspensions slackened in preparations to receive a heavy impact from below.

Link clenched his jaw, careful to ensure that he wasn't going to bite his tongue upon impact, waiting for a landing that seemed like it was going to take forever.

The landing did not exactly go smoothly. When Epona's wheels hit the ground, it did so at an angle. The rear wheel landed first, which distributed the force backwards and sent the bike on a fairly chaotic tilt to the left, which Link compensated by turning the front wheel right even as he fed as much power as he could to the forward drive in hopes of compensating and regaining balance. Dirt, gravel, and small pieces of rocks were kicked up by the spinning wheels at such an ineloquent landing, creating a very obvious trail in their wake. Link was fairly convinced that he was going to be thrown off Epona – or, alternatively, Epona was going to land sideways, a result that was potentially equally disastrous – until, luckily enough for him, a slightly larger piece of rock knocked tilted the motorcycle's rear wheel just enough for the motorcycle to begin to right itself.

At least, until Link realized the bike was moving up a small hill at more than two hundred kilometers per hour, and that he wasn't decelerating fast enough to turn the hill into anything else but a rather large ramp. Despite Link's best efforts to steer Epona in a different direction, math and physics couldn't be denied; as soon as Epona went over the apex of the hill at two hundred kilometers per hour, it was launched off the hill as the bike began to catch air…again.

Thankfully, the descent was much easier to control this time, and the landing was much smoother; the wheels landed onto a grassy field almost simultaneously, and the surface was just smooth enough for Link to maintain balance. Even better, there was a hill just close enough for Link to kill speed against. Trying to accelerate when one was at high speeds was one thing, but now Link was at a certain velocity bracket where the judicious use of the brakes was more prudent. With a bit more effort, Link finally managed to bring Epona to a halt after many more meters of violent skidding; it lost inertia, and Link quickly counter-balanced the motorcycle in time with a foot just as Epona tilted to the side, the engine making a combination of a cough and a purr as it finally came to a rest.

Heaving a sigh as he tried to calm himself down from the experience, Link slowly looked up to the skies, watched as the Gerudo transport plane that had dropped him here quickly ascended altitude as the ramp went back up and sealed the cargo hold, and the plane lazily went into an arcing turn to return to Gerudo territory. It looked as if he was in the clear for now. If anything else, however, Durandara was clearly less-than-impressed. "Wonderful," she sounded absolutely deadpan, although whether or not she was exasperated was a different matter altogether; her voice suggested more sarcasm than frustration. "A suicidal agent aiming at making maximum effort and fuss. Good to know we can both die together."

The Hylian agent quirked his lips into a small, amused smirk; it hadn't been _that_ bad, had it?

At the apex of the Gerudo plane's turn, several bursts of light were seen on the horizon, and Link watched with anxiety as two small fireballs streaked into the sky, signs of surface-to-air missiles tracking the transport aircraft as they soared into the sky in the direction of the plane's engines. On cue, the plane quickly deployed two dozen flares, sending its own barrage of fireballs in every which direction; the flares, in theory, were balls of magnesium that burned hotter than the plane's engines, fired away from the aircraft at high speeds, meant to fool the missiles into tracking the new heat sources instead of crashing explosively into the plane. Link himself sighed with some relief as the missiles were successfully diverted, flying harmlessly up to the skies and away from the plane, which quickly accelerated in the sky as it leveled out and retreated back towards Gerudo at best speed, flying above him for just a split second before going right past.

With his concerns over the Gerudo flight crew now shelved, Link turned his attention back at Epona, running a quick diagnostic on its computer; he was fairly worried that the less-than-stellar landing might have damaged a few components. The armor certainly seemed to sport a few more dents from where rocks had pelted and bounced off; in fact, Link was fairly surprised that none of the rocks had pelted _him_, for he didn't feel any pain in his legs. Surprisingly, and thankfully, the vast majority of the components checked out alright. The suspensions flashed yellow, indicating at _possible_ damage, but when Link gave the command to run a physical test, the springs compressed and loosened several times before the computer reported that the springs seemed to be working alright and wasn't reporting any known anomalies. That was going to have to be good enough; there was still a lot of road to cover. Link quickly rode over to the forest for more cover before killing primary power to the engine, allowing Epona to run almost silently at minimal power, reducing engine noise by more than ninety percent. The silence and stealth would be appreciated, especially since he decided the need to gather intelligence on the local area was much more important than testing out whether or not his current disguise worked. Seconds later, and Link was navigating through the Hylian woodlands.

For some time, Link always wondered exactly what Hyrule was going to look like after he returned to it. Somehow – under one influence or another – he had expected that a Valentine-occupied Hyrule was going to be alien to him, foreign, something changed, something he could no longer recognize. Raging fires, perhaps? Or would it be smoldering craters and ominous low black clouds? Yet as he continued to ride on, he realized that nothing actually seemed particularly different. The landscape was as he remembered it, rolling plains dotted with forests that were not as green as one would hope to be, without little sign of devastation or ominous signs that indicated at war, much less an occupation. In fact, it was as if the entire place was still peaceful and harmless as a whole.

Link jettisoned those thoughts from his mind; that mentality was going to lax his guard and get him killed.

"I'm receiving trace signals of Valentine communications," Durandara suddenly spoke, her voice indicating at quite a bit of interest. "It seems we're right at the edge of their battle-net range." A pause; Link guessed that the AI was attempting to gather more from the signals. "The signals are too weak in this area, and the local foliage is interfering with reception," she explained several seconds later. "Try moving closer by another one hundred meters, and I'll try to try cracking their COM channels again."

That was not a difficult request, considering it was the direction Link had to head anyways. A cautious one hundred meters and a minute later, the artificial intelligence was trying again even as Link looked about the forest around him. If memory served correctly – and he could always consult Durandara afterwards to check the local topography – these woodlands would stretch on for another thirty or forty kilometers before they ended at the outskirts of Fort Regner. If Link had to venture a guess, that would mean he'd arrive in the area during the late hours of morning…or perhaps even faster, if he decided that time was more important than stealth. That was going to depend on the effectiveness of the special forces disguise he had on, and whatever information Durandara had to offer him.

"Alright," the AI declared snappily as they finally came close enough for the signals to be slightly stronger. "All of their channels seem to be encrypted; quite careful of them." Strangely enough, she didn't sound displeased by this news at all. On the contrary, Durandara actually sounded smugly satisfied, as if she had been looking forward to the challenge. "I'll see if I can decrypt the code and see exactly what they're talking about. Just give me a bit of time to squirm my way in and link up with their proprietary…"

Link froze as he brought Epona to a sudden halt, the motion alarming Durandara, who trailed off immediately. He had spotted movement up ahead beyond the canopy of trees, a shade of green that was slightly brighter than the leaves in the area. His first instinct was that it was a Valentine combatant, and that put him into a cautious mode immediately, despite him supposedly masquerading as a member of their special forces. "Movement around the bend," Durandara spoke just a second after; her voice somehow hinted that she was displeased – perhaps even frustrated – that she seemed to be playing a reaction game, alerting Link only after he had noticed the fact. It reminded Link that, for all her capabilities, Durandara, like everything else, was limited in what she could do…a fact that would undoubtedly annoy her to no end if he actually bothered to voice that thought. He decided, like everything else, to keep it to himself. Slowly, Link got off Epona, scrambled towards a nearby tree, pressing himself against it before drawing his gunsword, shifting it to sword mode; most of the branches here were thin enough to slice through, so long as Link maintained an up-down style that avoided tree trunks.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one to have noticed that he wasn't alone in this part of the woods. Just a moment later, he heard a distinctive clicking sound, the sound of a magazine being locked and loaded into a firearm. Judging by its pitch, Link decided that the weapon was more likely to be an assault rifle than a pistol or a submachine gun. He tensed; starting the mission by being discovered this early on was not at all a good omen.

"Audio analysis identifies the weapon as a Valentine S80A1 assault rifle," Durandara whispered. "Selective fire, gas-operated, accuracy at up to four hundred and fifty meters. Uses five point fifty-six by forty-five rounds, so your vest may be able to stop one or two of them if you get lucky. Based on detailed audio prints, there is a seventy-eight percent chance that the assault rifle is currently using a thirty-round magazine with twenty-six rounds left."

Link blinked; that was remarkably thorough. He ventured a guess that Durandara could tell that much by analyzing the pitch of the sound from everything else she knew about weapons construction, metals, and mass…but this level of detail was definitely something that could only be done by an artificial intelligence. Maybe he needed to change his opinion, and move the emphasis of his thoughts on Durandara from "limited" to "capable".

Footsteps were not easy to mask of leaved terrain, and the crunch of boots on otherwise unstable ground gave away the position of the approaching interloper with every step he took. Every five meters, Durandara whispered the distance between the approaching threat and Link, who continued to press himself against the tree as he stabilized his breathing, waiting for the moment the AI would inform him that the distance had closed to five meters.

And when Durandara _did_ give him that warning, Link swung out from behind the tree, his longsword swinging forward along with his entire body in a slashing motion…

The tip of the blade stopped right at the throat of an armed and armored Valentine corporal just as the young man barely managed to level his assault rifle at Link's chest. The Hylian's look of intensity and concentration was matched only by the anxiety and caution of the man he had at swordpoint, cool, ready eyes matching wide, startled ones. The only thing that stopped Link from killing the man was the lack of necessity and the preference to see how his disguise held up, and the only thing that stopped the young male corporal from killing Link was the familiar flash of green garb that indicated they were from the same armed forces.

But, for now, there was hesitation as both of them stood at a stalemate, unmoving, holding their breaths, weapons pointed at each other close enough for any of their miniscule motions translating to lethal action…until, calmly, Link merely allowed for his gunsword to drop to the side, turning it back into handgun mode as he did so. Hopefully, that would be the final indicator, a motion that would extend enough trust for him to convince the corporal that he _was _special forces, and to survive this encounter.

The bluff paid off as the corporal – that was what the insignia labeled him as, at any rate – having been aiming the barrel of his assault rifle at Link's chest while in a feral, half-crouching position, finally lowered his rifle, rising to an upright position as he exhaled deeply in what seemed like a very tense sigh. "Goddammit," he muttered between breaths, trying to control his own adrenaline as he looked at the special forces soldier in front of him in what seemed to be a mix of irritation and awe; it wasn't everyday that a member of the regular Valentine armed forces got to see a gunsword user several leagues above him. "You scared the hell out of me." He relaxed the hold on his rifle, allowing it to swing down as the strap caught his shoulder; the corporal's hands went up to readjust his helmet, a move to replace him being unable to scratch his head, perhaps.

Link looked at the young non-commissioned officer, ventured a guess that this was a young soldier probably around the same age as he. That was good news for the masquerading Valentine special forces officer, who could use the relatively green soldier's inexperience to guarantee his own safety. Link turned away, as if to look at something different, but deliberately stood at a position where it was difficult for the corporal to miss the insignia on Link's uniform that labeled him as a Valentine first lieutenant, a good deal of paygrades above a measly corporal. He was, admittedly, fairly glad that the captured Valentine special forces officer whom had been captured by Gerudo forces was a commissioned officer that carried some rank; it would make the rest of his mission that much easier.

The corporal tensed on his part upon seeing the fact that the blond-haired soldier standing before him was, in fact, an officer, one who was fairly high up the chain of command when compared to the corporal's own rank. "Sir," he stiffened and addressed Link, but did not salute. Link himself noted this, and marked the discipline the corporal was trained in; it was encouraged for soldiers not to salute officers out in the field in fear of enemy snipers being able to immediately identify who was of higher rank, especially when even the most powerful of sniper scopes could not spot rank insignias and when everyone was dressed in combat fatigues. It was a common joke amongst the enlisted that saluting a greatly disliked superior officer on the battlefield was a good way for the company to receive a hopefully better replacement.

Link took this into consideration for the moment. He _should_ be deep enough into Valentine lines when undertaking his mission, but what were the chances of _him_ being sniped by a Hylian or Gerudo marksman who mistook him for a _real_ Valentine first lieutenant?

"Caught sight of what looked like a Gerudo transport plane flying through the area, sir," the corporal looked around in what seemed to be a wary, if not nervous, manner, as if expecting to see something hostile to suddenly pop out from the foliage. "I was patrolling the area, so I thought I'd…" The young NCO would've continued talking, had Link not suddenly thrown him a stern look, effectively cutting off what the Valentine soldier had to say as he fell silent; the Hylian followed up with the best imitation of Valentine military hand signals he could manage…even while standing close to the young man in case he needed to squeeze off a shot from his pistol faster than the corporal's rifle. Despite being fairly confident that he had accurately managed a "stay low, find cover" signal utilizing a single hand, he _did_ realize that Hylian intelligence's data on Valentine's covert hand signals were nearly two decades old. He _needed_ to do this, of course, if only to gain the corporal's trust, get him to stop thinking too much, and test out if these hand signals were going to work, but Link also knew full well that, if this move was a mistake, it would resort to violence very quickly. And if it came to that, he needed to be in a position where the circumstances favored a handgun's quick draw as opposed to a rifle's range.

But it didn't come to that. Both of them quickly moved up to the trees closest to them and went into a crouching position, taking cover as if there may be an armed threat somewhere. Link pretended to do a weapons check; the corporal reloaded behind his tree.

Link waited until the corporal had fed a new magazine into his S80A1 rifle once more before pointing at the corporal's radio on his shoulder, firing a questioning look as he did so. The corporal took a moment to trace the direction at which Link was pointing before shaking his head; no, he had yet to call this in and alert his company. The Hylian interpreted this as good news, meaning he had more time to get out of there. Pressing his lips together, Link raised a hand into the air, signaled for the corporal to stick to the right flank and fan out in a search pattern. Obediently, the NCO nodded, rising from behind the tree with his rifle pointed forwards as he made his way from tree to tree, sweeping the area for a possible enemy…one he had no idea was standing just meters away.

Link made for the left side…but just enough for the corporal to see that movement and assume the special forces first lieutenant was taking the other flank. As soon as the corporal had sufficiently been obscured by the foliage, Link decided that now was as good a time as any, and, without further ado, hopped back onto Epona and, ensuring that his engine was running on silent mode, rode his way out of the forest northwards.

He had a feeling that, when the corporal discovered that the "special forces first lieutenant" had left him alone scouring for a nonexistent enemy on a wild goose run while simply riding away, the NCO was going to believe that Valentine special forces officers were the worst jerks in the world.

* * *

Lieutenant Colonel Robert of the Valentine 19th Battalion, Third Corps, did not raise his gaze from the desk he was seated in front of when the flaps to the entrance of his command tent was swept aside, a figure moving through the opening, marching up to the desk, and saluting. It was not a sign of neglect or disrespect to the officer who now stood before him on the other side as much as it was concentration at the task at hand. With the first exchange of blows having been completed, giving Valent the element of surprise, the war had now entered what was effectively a stalemate, and operations that had initially only required a handful of corps, more than two hundred thousand strong in both Hyrule and Gerudo that had limited numbers for the sake of stealth and surprise, were now expanded to the army level, with no less than one million men and women in active service throughout the continent. While the firefights and battles were not as intense as the first few days of the war, it was very clear that all three nations were at a point where they were putting all their chips onto the table for a very risky bet.

The Third Corps, having originally been tasked with defending the Valentine homeland, had been moved to support the offensive after it was clear that the initial pushes by seven different Valentine corps had caused enemy forces to retreat too far to make effective offensives at Valent itself. While Hyrule was effectively falling apart like a stack of dominos following the highly successful attack on Hyrule City, Gerudo was proving to be much more resistant; resistance in the local area was by no means over, but Hylian forces in the locale were already beginning to retreat, and the land grab Valent had pulled off generated enough "breathing space" for them to attempt a southerly assault on Gerudo from Hyrule in the north. Considering that the brass had actually relocated Anansi, making their superweapon take a massive roundabout route from the western front to the northern one, this seemed to be a very high priority affair.

But Robert was fine as he was; although he wasn't exactly pleased about it, he did recognize the fact that he was much more of a staff officer, an administrator, as much as he was a leader, a fact that his immediate superior, Colonel Arthur, seemed to capitalize on, for he often found himself handling his superior's paperwork more often than not. It was surprisingly less demoralizing than he had initially thought, however; Robert understood that he was neither a very good leader, nor was he a very good soldier, but his administrative and intellectual qualities had all but ensured officer candidacy upon his graduation from officer candidate school. From there, it was from one desk job to another. That said, though, it still meant he was left in charge of the battalion whenever Colonel Arthur decided to go another one of his "wild adventures", as many liked to call it. The problem, unfortunately, was that the colonel enjoyed doing that far too often for someone who was supposed to be commanding the entire battalion. Sure, a full colonel was _still_ a field officer, but one would've thought that someone that high up the chain of command would be better suited staying in the rear instead of hitching rides with non-commissioned officers when going out on patrols that often deviated far from the predefined routes whenever the colonel in the humvee.

Robert often wondered if Arthur was some sort of adrenaline junkie, but he was too politically-savvy to actually say that out loud.

In the meantime, however, he didn't even need to look up from his stack of paperwork to know that the presence before him was that of Major Marisa; of all the frequent visitors to the dimly-lit command tent at this hour of dawn, she was the only person who continuously radiated a no-nonsense personality that made it difficult for anyone to mistake her for anyone else. Unlike Robert, now in his mid-forties, the twenty-eight-year-old Marisa was not only known as a competent field officer that led by example, but also for a keen and thoughtful mind comparable to military intelligence officers in the rear echelons. She was effective both as a leader and a fighter. Robert often admitted to himself that he was no saint, and felt jealous of her from time-to-time…but, like any good officer, he also told himself to be happy and proud for such a subordinate. It generally worked out.

The clearing of Robert's throat was all that he was willing to give as an "at ease" order at the moment; the night of paperwork had him exhausted – paper cups with dried coffee stains littered the tent that indicated that work hours he had been keeping apparently ignored the fact that, at nearly seven in the morning, he should be sleeping – and he had never been one to stand on strict formalities anyways, at least, not when compared to bureaucracy. That allowed for Marisa to stand at ease before asking, "Sir, are you aware of any detachment of special forces operating in the area?"

Robert raised his head at that, his suddenly-wary gaze locking with that of Marisa's while his lips parted just slightly; now _that_ got his attention. "No, I'm not," he admitted as his hand subconsciously placed his pen on the table as a reflection of how much concentration he was giving this. "What's this about?"

Seeing that she now had her lieutenant colonel's full attention, Marisa stood up straighter. "Corporal Nicholas said he ran into what seemed to be a member of special forces while on patrol, a first lieutenant."

Robert frowned. "What 'seemed to be'?" he echoed; the loaded language the major was using intrigued him.

"Apparently, he didn't identify himself or say which detachment he was from."

That incurred a mix between a resigned sigh and a rude snorting sound from the lieutenant colonel. "Well, that sounds like the way they do things," he shrugged and chuckled, and – without quite realizing it – picked up his pen once more, an indicator that he didn't seem to be too bothered by this piece of information. "Do I have any reason to be suspicious?"

Marisa pursed her lips; she understood why her superior wasn't vastly suspicious, if only because special forces were effectively ghosts in a separate chain of command compared to the regular army, which earned quite a bit of inter-service rivalry between the two branches, but she still felt that her paranoia – or at least what resembled paranoia – was in some way justified. "Not…truly, sir," she allowed. "Admittedly, Corporal Nicholas confirmed that the lieutenant was carrying a gunsword, and we all know how hard those are to come by."

Although he still kept his gaze on Marisa, Robert seemed fairly ready to get back to tackling his paperwork and get the documents off his desk as soon as possible. "Then there's no problem," he raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

Marisa wasn't quite done yet. "He also says that the gunsword was not of a make he'd ever seen," she quickly added, hoping to instill just a bit of doubt into her superior. "Reports indicated at an unknown fixed-wing military transport craft flying over the area just an hour ago. And the lieutenant was riding a scout motorcycle that doesn't seem to be part of standard Valentine inventory either."

Robert was fairly quick to take the bait and follow the conventional line of thought. "Do you mean to say it's a Hylian or Gerudo scout bike?" he frowned. He personally doubted it; a much more coherent and much less uncertain response would've been brought to him if this was the case.

For some reason she herself couldn't quite explain, Major Marisa felt fairly awkward, and it showed as she twisted her mouth to the side uncomfortably. "Corporal Nicholas says it wasn't, sir. At least, he's never seen the model before." Her mouth twitched again, and her head seemed to be prepared to turn about and look behind her, as if she was going to peer through the flaps of the tent to see if she could spot Corporal Nicholas behind her, but the hint never actually translated into motion. "I tend to trust him where such matters are concerned," she finally allowed herself a fairly suppressed sigh. "But I can't help but feel a bit uneasy about this, sir."

It was more of a deep exhaling than it was a sigh, and the lieutenant colonel's hands positioned themselves at the edge of his desk, looking as if to push himself away from it and stand up, but the motion didn't carry through as he remained seated where he was. "Well, it's not the first time special forces have been up to their cheap cloak-and-dagger tricks," he muttered, this time more out of resigned irritation than anything, but he honestly didn't seem to mind that too much either. "Chances are they're doing a prototype weapons test they don't want us knowing about. Last thing I want is get them into my hair for deciding to check up."

Marisa had a feeling that that the sit-rep was coming to an end. "Are we to let the situation stand as is, sir?" she asked for confirmation.

Robert looked thoughtful as he silently contemplated his options for a moment. "Is the lieutenant still here?" he asked.

"I don't think so, sir," the major shook her head. "Corporal Nicholas has a feeling that the man's left."

A small, amused, knowing grin surfaced on the lieutenant colonel's lips. "Has a 'feeling', eh?"

Marisa shrugged. "Well, he also has a feeling that the man's an asshole, although he refrained from explaining why." She shrugged again, for added emphasis. "I don't think we need to think too hard to guess why."

That got a chuckle out of Robert, who then nodded absentmindedly, deciding that, for all intents and purposes, the matter was solved. "Well, leave it be for now." He seemed done, but just before Marisa could decide that it was a good time to salute and make her exit, Robert quickly added, "But I want to be notified if any more gentlemen from special forces decide to come wandering around this neck of the woods. I tend to think that one's an anomaly, two's a trend. Rule eighty-nine."

The major nodded; that sounded reasonably cautious to her as well. "Yes, sir," she saluted, and her silence, indicating that she had nothing further to add, invited Robert to absentmindedly wave a hand to dismiss her from his command tent. Hopefully, that indicated an end to whatever suspicious activity was going on in the region.

* * *

Link realized immediately upon setting his eyes on Fort Regner that he was going to reevaluate his earlier thought of there being practically no changes to Hyrule since the war broke out.

As he crept into the devastated streets of the financial district of Fort Regner's township, he was appropriately reminded of the scenery back at Sirsa Military Airbase, when he had been attempting to locate a transport helicopter to transport Princess Zelda to Garuda. Aside from the buildings that seemed to have been ripped and torn apart by bullets, explosions, and mortars, the area looked very much like a modern warzone. Parts of buildings, which generally ranged from two stories to six stories, had been greatly torn apart, while the streets were marked by debris and craters, as well as smoldering wreckages of vehicles both military and civilian. Every ground window was shattered, leaving shattered class on the ground. Fires still spewed black smoke that created a sky-high pillar that expanded upwards. The good news was that it provided a semblance of cover as Link moved cautiously in a feral, cat-like stance across the town, which actually remained fairly derelict for the most part, with his gunsword drawn in handgun mode should he need to engage anyone in this mess. All signs seemed to indicate that the Valentine forces in the area had set up camp in the actual fort – or what was _left_ of it – but it certainly never hurt to be careful, especially with possibilities of Valentine patrols scouring the area.

The bad news was pretty self-evident by itself. There used to be thirty-thousand people living in Fort Regner and its township. Now, the area seemed like a ghost town.

Although Fort Regner and the surrounding township were not at all near the scale of Hyrule City in terms of size and scale, the destruction was undoubtedly much more devastating and thorough. It was clear that, unlike the special operations that had occurred in Hyrule City, this had been a full-out battle of attrition that moreorless laid complete waste to the city. What also drove the point home was that the bodies strewn across the area were not only that of Hylian and Valentine soldiers, but also of a small number of civilians who sported bullet holes in their bodies that lay in large pools of blood. If Link could drive any comfort from the scenery, it was that – judging by the number of dead bodies and burning wrecks of vehicles on the Valentine side in proportion to Hylian human and mechanical carcasses – the Hylian defending forces had obviously given it their all, and Valent paid dearly for attempting to take Fort Regner. In fact, if the sporadic gunfire in the distance to the east was any indicator, there were still Hylian forces in the area that were fighting for control over the city…or, at least, making a full Valentine dominion of the area a costly goal to reach.

Apparently, Durandara was of the same mind. "Audio analysis at this range is not exactly accurate," she _almost_ sounded like she was complaining that they couldn't get close enough, "but some of the gunfire does correspond with decent matches of known Hylian firearms. Chances are that there are still significant pockets of resistance in the area."

That was not at all unlikely. Gerudo intelligence pointed out that a Valentine occupation of Fort Regner had only been established three days ago…which probably wasn't enough time for them to fully sweep the city of stragglers or fight off Hylian forces holding the outskirts. It was curious that Anansi, having been in the area before, had not wiped out resistance in the area, but it was likely that the superweapon's primary priority had been to attack Zubara, and focused only on that objective.

"We may want to see if we can make contact with the Hylian forces in the area," the artificial intelligence continued to suggest. "They may be able to provide intelligence on where Anansi was headed, if you feel asking Valentine officers about their trump card feels a bit too conspicuous."

That, too, sounded reasonable. Granted, intelligence from the Valentine side was probably going to be more accurate, but poking one's nose in the wrong direction could be far more trouble than it was worth, and Link still needed his cover intact when it would be time to actually sabotage Anansi. That said, the inherent weakness of this course of action was that there was a very real possibility that Hylian forces wouldn't believe Link was part of a false flag operation and detain him as a prisoner of war…but the briefing and preparation sessions with Princess Zelda, Director Leonore, and Director Emi had prepared him for that, and they had been all fairly confident of the methods in which he could prove he was truly a Hylian Joint Intelligence agent should the push come to shove.

Stealth was of the essence here, however, so while Link made his way towards the general direction of the sounds of gunfire, he did so while creeping through buildings and ruins and broken walls. Many physical boundaries that constitutes city blocks – doors, walls, and, in some cases, entire buildings – had been torn down, leaving him with a fair bit of freedom in terms of movement across cover. There was also a great number of debris on the street that provided cover whenever sneaking through abandoned and unlocked houses wasn't an option. Durandara was also quick to consult digital maps of Fort Regner to guide him along what she decided was the best route to take towards the source of gunfire.

Strangely enough, many of the houses – those that were untouched by overwhelming firepower – seemed whole, and it didn't seem as if the soldiers had looted the place. Link wondered if this was some sort of unique discipline enforced by their enemies…or if the Valentine soldiers simply hadn't had the time to strip these abandoned buildings of whatever was valuable.

Epona, meanwhile, had been parked in the outskirts of Fort Regner, hidden in the local foliage where it hopefully would remain undiscovered. While it undoubtedly would've been a remarkably fast method of travel, Link knew that his current objective was investigation, and that required a measure of stealth, something that was fairly difficult to accomplish on a prototype reconnaissance military motorcycle. Thankfully, while reading an electronic copy of Epona's user manual, compiled by the Hylian army's research and development organ, he learned that Epona had an extremely sophisticated auto-drive and GPS system, which, along with the vehicle's spectroimagery sensors, allowed for motorcycle to plot a route to a distant point…with or without a rider. A scout could effectively leave Epona at the outskirts of a city, move to the city center, and then give a remote command for the vehicle to ride itself over to where the scout was by navigating roads and streets and analyzing spectroimagery data in front of it in real-time…which was effectively what Link was doing right now.

To say that it was a useful component was a severe understatement. Link had no doubt that this was a function he was going to have to use time after time when riding into an area was out of the question and work needed to be done on foot.

"Stop here," Durandara whispered when Link managed to make it undetected across one of the streets after waiting for a Valentine patrol humvee to pass and disappear behind another corner, continuing only when Link pressed himself against a mailbox to hide himself, going down into a sitting position as he did so. "There should be a sheriff station ten meters up ahead on your left side. The blueprints for that building indicate that there is an underground service tunnel that extends its way east three hundred meters eastwards, which leads to a fire station. The path to the tunnel will probably be barred by a locked door, but," her voice sounded clearly like she was grinning, "I'm sure finding ballistic or explosive solutions to your problems is very much in your tastes." Having cracked that bit of sarcasm, she became pragmatic once more. "It's not likely that this path will be occupied by enemy forces, and we'd have almost-guaranteed stealth for three hundred meters."

Link nodded in agreement; going underground sounded like a very good option. Tilting his head slightly so he had a slightly better angle to look down the block, he had no problems spotting the sheriff's station at all. Rising back to his feet, he closed the ten meters between the mailbox and the half-open door of the sheriff's station in just three seconds, slipping through the gap before kneeling down, steadying his aim as he pointed his firearm outwards, and taking a quick look back out onto the derelict outside. The streets were still empty, and all signs showed he was thus far undiscovered.

Getting back up onto his feet once more, Link noted that the sheriff station, for the most part, actually seemed mostly untouched. There _were_ a few bullet holes here and there, but most of it seemed to the result of street fighting outside on the streets than actual gunfire inside the fairly small building. Even as Link moved through the offices of the sheriff station, he noticed that the firearms were still there and seemed untouched. It was curious that none of the evacuating civilians came by to take these weapons for personal protection…but, then again, when fleeing from an enemy army, one generally didn't try to run to the sheriff station first.

"Turn right down this hallway intersection," Durandara directed the Hylian agent as he continued to stealthily make his way through the station, clearing through rooms to ensure that this wasn't an ambush waiting to uncoil itself. "There's going to be a staircase that leads down into a small jailing area. The service corridor can be accessed from there."

An underground service corridor adjacent to an underground jailhouse under the sheriff station? Link raised an eyebrow at that; it was certainly an unusual way of designing this sheriff station…and a potential equation from trouble if they were dealing with escaping convicts and criminals. Then, again, this _was_ a sheriff station and not an official jailhouse, but _still_.

Apparently, Durandara was thinking along the same lines. "Yes, I know, it's pretty pathetic," she admitted. Seconds passed, potentially the AI conducting calculations or looking up information, and then she coyly added, "You will be relieved to know that the designer of this sheriff station did _not_ design any _actual_ prison facilities anywhere in Hyrule. Looks like we can all sleep a bit more soundly at night."

Link did not smile at that joke, but he did allow himself to feel amused as he made his way down the staircase Durandara located, stopping at the door at the bottom of the stairs before slowly twisting the knob and opening the door…

He stopped. He could hear something beyond the barely-open door…a voice, uttered in urgent whispers. That sounded like a recipe for an ambush, and it immediately set off caution alarms in Link's head as he raised his gunsword once more, preparing to deal with whatever threat may be within the underground jailhouse.

"Stress analyzing the voice," Durandara whispered urgently into Link's ear even as he slowly pushed open the door, looking about the area as he made it through. He found himself looking down a small hallway with a plain wall on the left and a small windowed office on the right that looked like a guard station. The hallway went ahead for five meters before taking a ninety-degree turn to the right. And now, standing within the jailhouse, Link could hear something _else_…something that was quieter than the urgent, unintelligible whispers in the distance.

Was that…_sobbing_?

"Analysis complete," Durandara murmured, and, to Link's mild surprise, suddenly chose to appear before him in holographic form, displaying her digital female avatar once more. One of her hands rose into the air, and what seemed like a blueprint of the jailhouse – the basement floor of the sheriff station – appeared above Durandara, the map actually being bigger than her figure for Link's viewing convenience. The bottom floor had a single hallway that resembled a capital "L"; after turning right at the end of this bend, Link would have to progress for another twenty meters, walking past the guard station and five jail cells to the right, before reaching the end of the hallway, where the door to the service corridor was located. Durandara, in the meantime, gently jabbed at the cell on the map at the very end of the hall. "The whispers seem to be originating from _this_ cell, twenty meters down on the right. Voice stress analysis suggests that the person down there is male, around nineteen years of age, and highly agitated. Identity profile inconclusive. The sobbing comes from around _here_," Durandara pointed at the hallway right in front of the aforementioned cell. "It seems to resemble a child's sobbing sound; suggested age at around five or six. The voiceprints are not clear enough for me to determine whether it's a boy or a girl, though."

So that effectively meant two individuals at _least_, one of which was probably _not _a threat. That didn't stop Link from moving forward, passing through the hologram of Durandara and her blueprint as it dissipated in the air. Stacking himself against the inner corner of the wall, Link ventured a peek around the corner, and found himself looking at exactly what he expected, a twenty-meter stretch of hallway with a metallic door at the very end, five jail cells on the right of the hallway as it stretched down. Also at the very end, however, were two entities. Slumped against the left wall of the hallway, away from the jail cells, was a human body in a pool of blood; Link's eyesight managed to identify his sheriff's uniform even at this distance, as well as two gunshot wounds he had sustained to the chest. It seemed that someone _had_ come down here and killed the sheriff, double-tapping him. There _was_, however, an entity that was alive; beyond the sheriff's body at the very corner of the hallway was a small human figure curled into a tiny ball, wedging itself tightly into the corner as it sobbed. The clothing – a fairly pretty and frilly white dress – indicated that this child was a girl, and, if Link had to guess, it was a very scared and very traumatized girl that was now trying to find solace in the corner of this jailhouse.

Moving down the twenty-meter stretch, Link ensured that he stayed on the left side of the hallway, out of arm's reach should anyone be behind the bars, while keeping his weapon aimed to the front-right, ensuring that he had a good shot at anyone who could be lying in ambush there. The second and fourth cell doors were actually unlocked and open. It was when Link got eyes on the fifth cell, however, that he found the source of the agitated voice.

The figure made a startled cry as he stumbled back in fight the moment he saw Link, an armed man wearing a Valentine special forces uniform, but Link managed to make sufficient visual contact with him just long enough to know that he wasn't a threat. In fact, he was very much a civilian, a young man looking no older than eighteen or nineteen years of age…probably a teenager of sorts. It was not difficult to guess _why_ he was in the cell, though; the teenager looked very much the juvenile delinquent, with hair dyed an electric blue, earrings on both ears, and what was potentially make-up applied in a very gothic style that was already beginning to smear off, giving him an extremely disheveled look. His black T-shirt was badly wrinkled, and his jeans were very baggy and looked to be a size greater than one that was supposed to comfortably fit his hip. Meanwhile, his pale skin and bloodshot eyes seemed to indicate that he was fatigued and in poor health…until Durandara suddenly whispered so that only Link could hear. "The boy's a drug addict. I can detect drug addiction and assorted symptoms via surface biological markers. I can't tell exactly what he's addicted to without a better medical examination, but he looks like trouble."

Link wasn't going to dispute that point, even as he watched the man cower and make yelping noises as he shoved himself into a corner of his cell, seemingly certain that this Valentine soldier was going to kill him in cold blood. So, instead, he turned his attention to the girl in the corner, holstering his gunsword as he did so; there didn't seem to be any threats that he should be worried about.

Although the girl was curled up in a ball with her face buried into her knees, Link could still spy a few details about her. The girl's blond hair curled a bit, and seemed to be at waist length. Her dress indicated that whoever raised her was probably fairly financially well-off, considering that the girl looked to be well-groomed. That said, though, she looked a bit dusty and worse for the wear…which was to be expected, if Link's hypothesis that she had been spending the last three days in a warzone was accurate. Her back heaved with every sob she took, and she showed no indicator that she had actually noticed Link's presence.

Kneeling down beside the girl, Link gently placed a gloved hand on his shoulder, shook her gently once. She did not raise her head until seconds later, when her bloodshot, tearful blue eyes met Link's own. She showed fear and anxiety in general, but – insofar as Link could tell – it didn't seem as if she cared in particular as to whether anyone who found her was Hylian or Valentine, judging by her lack of significant reaction towards his current uniform. At least she seemed mostly fearful instead of completely hysterical; it meant the child hadn't gone down the deep end just yet. Link managed a small smile towards her, if only to comfort the girl, but a strange look that dawned on her face seemed to indicate that his smile looked funny, and that – had she not been crying – she would've probably been giggling by now.

That dropped his motivation to smile rather quickly.

"Hey," came a voice behind Link, and he slowly turned to look at the gothic teenage drug addict behind him; he was now pressed against the bars, reaching out with an arm that was not long enough to actually touch Link. Apparently, the youth had decided that this Hylian special forces first lieutenant was not very likely to hurt him, if he was going to spend time trying to comfort a five-year-old girl. "Hey, hey, hey. Please, man, can you get me out of here?"

Although the male behind the bars _was_ an unarmed teenager – nothing Link couldn't handle in case something got out of hand – he admitted that he felt apprehensive about letting out someone put behind bars just like that. Durandara was of like mind. "I'm going to try and see if I can get an ID match on him and find his criminal record," she spoke privately to Link. "Identification servers in Hyrule City are down, though, so we're going see if I can pull anything from the local network."

"Just, like, throw me the keys on that dead cop over there," the teenager continued to plead before glowering at the girl cowering in the corner. "I've been trying to get the girl to get it, but useless little thing's just been hunkered there crying."

Something about the teenager's statement clearly annoyed Durandara enough to suddenly materialize before them – the air in front of him flickering with light for just a moment before she appeared in her quarter-meter-high glory. Her voice was very much irate and unpleasant even as she spoke in an acidic, deadpan manner. "Well, age issues aside, I'd think touching a dead body in the middle of a warzone's a fairly unpleasant experience…even for a child."

Momentarily forgetting that he was stuck behind bars, the teenager's eyes widened as fell back involuntarily, looking at Durandara with wide, bloodshot eyes. He had seen enough science fiction movies to know that this was very serious…but logic wasn't responding as well, with common sense telling him that this wasn't possible. "Holy _shit_," he murmured, continuing to stare at the artificial intelligence and trying to come to grasps with whether this was real, or if three days of being locked down here was causing him to hallucinate. He slowly turned his stare towards Link, pointed at Durandara. "Is that…?"

Her holographic form seemingly ignored the teenager before it flickered in the air a bit, disappearing for just a second before it reappeared and materialized in its form of light – a smaller version of her usual avatar – on Link's shoulder, sitting there as she swung her legs back and forth. "No mission parameters have been set regarding the encounter and protection of Hylian citizens caught in this conflict for this operation," Durandara said slowly and testily. Link assumed that she meant he should solely be concerned about the mission at hand…until, just seconds later, she decided to add in a seemingly effortful nonchalant manner, "If you choose to take custody of them until their safety can be guaranteed, however, I will not protest as long as it does not take an unreasonable amount of time."

Link decided that he was going to interpret that as his call…that, or Durandara was _supportive_ of the idea of taking the two with them, but hid that behind indifference to maintain Link's impression of an unbiased, pragmatic AI. For his part, he certainly didn't mind this; although Durandara obviously had a personality, he thought that this was more of a programmed aspect than anything else, and that it wasn't a very good indicator for true sapience. Her behavior, however, seemed to suggest that this may not entirely be the case…and Link had a hunch that it was possible that this she had a sense of _morality_ and _honor_ masked behind expectations of how an AI should behave.

Not that Link minded. If anything else, he actually preferred it this way; it fell very much in line with his own judgment, and it was nice to see that Durandara wasn't just a heartless piece of equipment.

"Getting them to Hylian forces may be our best course of option," the AI finally finished, crossing her arms as she spoke. "We're headed in that direction anyways, so we may as well."

Link glanced at the AI on his shoulder and nodded. He was going to try and get the two out of here.

"Splendid," Durandara sounded quirky, bouncing herself off Link's shoulder and floating onto the ground as she did so; the girl watched with fascination as that happened. "Looking for more ways to get in trouble and get killed. Why not?" Despite her sarcasm, she didn't seem to disagree with the choice at all. Instead, she turned towards the girl, enlarging herself back to her quarter-meter height so that the girl could see the gentle smile Durandara was sporting on her hologram. "Hi, there," she tried to sound as gentle and cheerful as possible. "Don't worry, we're the good guys. We're here to get you out of here and to your parents. What's your name?"

The girl made what seemed like a groaning sound as she fidgeted slightly in her ball position. "L-Lily," she finally sniffed.

"Okay, Lily," Durandara cooed. "We're with the Hylian army, okay? We think your mommy and daddy may be with the rest of our soldiers to the north. We're going to try to get you to them so they can protect you, alright?"

Link continued to watch the exchange between Durandara and Lily, ignoring the fact that the teenager behind him was attempting to shake the bars behind which he was imprisoned. It was a fairly futile movement, considering how sturdy the metal was, but it at least served as an outlet for his anger and distress at being so utterly ignored by two potential saviors, who seemed more intent on trying to comfort a useless girl who couldn't even pass him the keys from the dead sheriff slumped against the wall. "Hey!" he hissed, wanting to scream but afraid it would attract the wrong kind of attention above. "Get me out of here too!"

Lily, too, was ignoring the bad man in the prison cell, looking at Durandara with curious and anxious eyes. Nervously, she glanced up at Link, her look fairly appraising in childlike uncertainty. Tracing her gaze, Durandara merely smiled and chose to interpret this in a way that would annoy Link most. "Don't worry about him," she said without a hint of remorse or teasing in her disembodied voice. "His name is Link. He looks a bit scary, but he's really a nice person."

Okay, that _did_ irk Link a bit, even as he fought to suppress the urge to make a face that would make Durandara's words true. _He_ looked _scary_?

"But you need to come with us, okay?" the AI continued, nodding to Lily in a manner Link found to be very maternal. "We'll keep your safe until we can get you with our team up north or your parents."

Hesitating only for a few seconds, Lily made one final sniff, wiping the tears from her eyes with a slow swipe of her entire sleeve before looking at both Link and Durandara – admittedly, more Durandara than Link – and nodded. "…Okay," she whispered, and that was enough of a cue for Link to help the young five-year-old girl to her feet.

The delinquent obviously wasn't impressed by how things were going along, because he attempted to shake his bars in vain again, trying to grab the attention of those in the hallway, fearing that they may very much leave him here to starve. He was _not_ going to rot here in a prison cell. "Hey, hey, hey!" he snarled, definitely louder in volume this time. "What about me? Don't just leave me behind, man! Come on, _please_, I _really_ got to get out of here!"

Both Link and Lily remained impassive as they turned to look at the teenager, but Durandara was clearly unimpressed as she walked haughtily over to the bars, placing her hands on her hips as she did so. Link wondered if she was doing that for show…or if she was _really_ considering leaving him behind. "We'll get you out of there," Durandara finally spoke, but quickly raised a finger in the air as if to make a point. "But only if we have your word that you won't cause trouble and do _exactly _as we say."

"Okay, okay, I swear!" he hissed, looking around frantically, clearly overanxious after having been trapped her as a battle waged overhead. "Won't cause any problems. Just get me the hell out!"

Link and Durandara exchanged another look…and shrugged in unison. In their opinion, it could be worse. That being decided, Link knelt down beside the body of the sheriff and began to scrounge the corpse's pockets for the keys to the cell.

* * *

**Exoria File #010  
Military Chain of Command**

Due to the absence of a modern military cooperate framework on the continent, each of the three nations on the continent, Gerudo, Hyrule, and Valent, operates under different administrative groupings of their armed forces, although this difference is almost specifically prevalent in their armies rather than their air forces or navies. All three nations maintain the same names in terms of army unit sizes from the two-man fire-and-maneuver teams up to battalions which may number as high as one thousand men. From here, however, Gerudo dubs any unit size larger than battalion as "army group", which may range anywhere from a small five hundred to massive numbers at more than one hundred thousand. This classification is in reflection of the fact that most military units fall under the purview of individual provinces, which generally do not field as many troops at a single time; correctional measures have been introduced to modernize the chain of command, with no tangible results thus far. Generally, however, an average Gerudo army group is sized from eight hundred to ten thousand men. While Hyrule has units of regiments, five hundred to five thousand men, and divisions, ten thousand to twenty thousand men, a Valentine brigade is considerably larger than a Hylian regiment, from one thousand to twenty thousand men; Valent uses the term "division" relatively sparingly, often denoting only the largest of brigades, and when in relation to a Valentine corps. Hyrule and Valent both share the same definition for a corps, from twenty thousand to sixty thousand men, and the same goes with army, which number around one hundred thousand men or above. Due to the advantage that technologies have provided, fewer modern soldiers are required to fulfill duties when compared to decades ago, making the Hylian and Valentine army group, which refers to any military unit comprised of at least two armies, fairly obsolete, as there are few theaters that require more than one army present at any given time. Despite the confusion this often generates in an international military setting, as the need for international standardization is simply not present, no motion to do so has been generated thus far.

* * *

Author's Note: At this point, I really can't apologize enough over how long this chapter update took. I _did_ say that I was likely to run into scheduling problems, academics being how they are, but with a full month since the previous update…I admit I'm fairly ashamed at my management skills, considering that I am majoring in business management. I _will_ try to be faster with my updates, but the keyword here is _try_…and, frankly, it's not entirely likely, especially since I will be going on holiday in Italy (specifically, the Tuscany region) in two weeks (next Saturday), and will stay there for six days and five nights without bringing my computer. So I will apologize in advance for the slow updates, and will probably apologize again when the update comes. Rest assured, though; this is a very ambitious project, and I don't intend to give up on it…at least, not _that_ quickly.

Moving away from the topic of _Exoria_ for a moment, I'd also greatly appreciate some feedback who has ever been to Florence, Lucca, Pisa, and Siena – all of them are in Tuscany, Italy – as to where I absolutely _must_ visit to complete my tourism experience. Only people that have actually been there, by the way; I can look things up online just as easily as the rest of you.

And so Link sets out on his first official adventure…and first official sidequest. Civilian escort is probably one of the least favorite things any gamer would like to do, especially if the mission fails if any of them are killed. Thankfully, this isn't a game, so there's no game over, but we'll have to see how that goes. I also wanted to put some more Link and Durandara interactions in this chapter – it's rather fun to write them, admittedly – but I was running out of space and time. That said, though, I'd rather not show all my cards at once, so the conversations – or, really, Durandara speaking and Link doing something – was sparse. Don't worry, I do intend to explore the Link/Durandara dynamic further, if only because it's been a long time since I've wrote a character with great snarkiness.

Also of potential concern is how powerful Durandara may be. She has, for the time being, shown the ability to tap into local radio signals, access the internet from seemingly anywhere, project holograms that isn't limited to her avatar, and conduct extremely thorough audio analysis. I will, however, reassure you that she is _not_ omnipotent or omniscient, and not a Deus Ex Machina; she has her limits (I won't deny that her limits are dictated by the plot), and won't be getting Link out of every tight spot. That doesn't mean she isn't incredibly useful in the right places, however.

Oh, by the way, I was very pleasantly surprised to see that someone added an entry onto the _Exoria_ page on TV Tropes Wiki. As someone has keenly noticed, the name Durandara is based off Durandal, the name of the AI in Bungie's _Marathon_ game, while Durandara the character has a personality closer to Cortana of the _Halo_ games, also made by Bungie. I will say that this was very much intentional, and that learning someone had figured this out drove me giddy with glee, but I'd also like to point out something: While Bungie _did_ influence this decision a bit, I actually was just taking a page from Bungie, but also using French mythology (Bungie did the same thing, but I wasn't trying to copy them when I took this step). Durandal (also known as Durendal) was the sword bestowed onto the paladin Roland by Charlemagne in the _Matter of France_; Charlemagne himself wielded a sword known as Joyeuse, and his temporary foe, Ogier the Dane, wielded Curtana. Bungie obviously took the names from these swords, namely Curtana and Durandal, as did I.

Moving on to review responses now.

Exodus5: _I must say that I'm not sure about Zelda having access to magic in this story. I really liked the gritty modern feel that it had earlier. Zelda having magic seems to take away from that._

_If she absolutly must have magic, which is very much in theme from the Zelda series, then why doesn't anyone else have magic? If Zelda has magic then so should Link, Ganondorf, Impa and a number of other characters. Link having magic and swordfighting skills was a staple of series since the first Zelda game._

_Other than the magic thing I liked the chapter just fine. Though it didn't have much action the character development was nice. Hoping to see some explosions next time._

Zelda's access to "magic" was predetermined a long time ago during the story's planning phases. It's a nod to canon continuity, and it also solidifies _Exoria_'s status as a sequel to the Zelda series. Make no mistake: Magic is very clearly something that's dead, and "magic" is just the term used by the modern media. I personally like Durandara's explanation of how Zelda's powers can simply be paranormal abilities or perhaps even genetic mutation; science just hasn't advanced enough to explain it. But I admit that you have very valid concerns, I appreciate you bringing them up, and I'll try to reassure you that this won't be detrimental.

I'm afraid I'm not going to spoil much about this either way, though; it's far too fun keeping all of you guessing. Rest assured, though; the gritty, modern feel will continue. As will the explosions.

The Pilot: _As I promised, it is now time for a proper review (now that the nightmare of Accounting has been beaten back into submission for a while). That said, here we go:_

_Poor Jessica just can't get a break from the looks of things, though I was pleasantly surprised to see Link evesdropping on the conversation, and the ensuing short chat with Jessica afterward. It's good to see him continuing to care enough about her to want to help, and vice versa. I hope it continues, and builds._

_And yes, I must say Jessica's reactions regarding Link are hilarious! One of my favorite parts of this chapter is the scene where Link gets his new look, and Jessica and Zelda's reactions when they see him. A very nice touch of romantic humor! And it was done in a good way as well: a reminder that romance is a possibility in the story, but subtle enough to not distract attention from the main plot. That being said, I would like to see a background file on Jessica, if it's available? (Maybe Link could 'discover' it while doing a little snooping later on, or something like that)_

_Now, to the big attention-grabbing event in this chapter: Durandara. I must applaud you for a most successful, and ingenious approach to working a modern version of Navi into the story! I especially like how you made her personality; it is the perfect counter to Link's reserved mannerisms. I can only imagine the possible upcoming interactions between them, based on the exchange with Princess Zelda, and afterward when Link was bording the helicopter! Well done!_

_On a final note, I had a couple of intriguing thoughts cross my mind when I was writing this review:  
_

_1) Leonore's last order to Link about surviving - that can be interpreted a couple of ways. Either she is telling him to be careful, and not complete the mission objective at any cost, or it could mean that we might possibly see Link captured, and have to break out of captivity (with Durandara's help of course. Have you considered having Link hide the flash drive in a secret compartment or pocket?) before he accomplishes his mission. Either way, it's a tantalizing way to leave a reader hanging. *grin*_

_2) This was kind of out of left field, but I wonder if the way these three super-weapons are being powered is in any way related to certain historical Zelda artifacts? As I said, a thought out of left field._

_I look forward to the next chapter with great anticipation!_

Thank you for your continued patronage of _Exoria_; you've been a reader that has been with me for a while now, and I'm glad you're still on board. Now, to address a few issues you've brought up…

I _do_ have an _Exoria_ _File_ written for Jessica already, actually, but I _do_ have a specific chapter in mind in which I'll put it up. In the meantime, Jessica won't be the only character getting a character dossier, but I won't spoil the surprise and tell you who else is going to be written up. As for Link getting captured…well, it may happen. It may throw one hell of a wrench into his mission, which greatly depends on stealth and his ability to maintain his cover as a Valentine special forces first lieutenant, but we'll see. I'm not ruling out. And as for your "thought out of left field", you should know full well that I can't very well answer that question, can I?

Well, that's it for this author's note. Please read and review, and be as constructive as possible. Remember: Many reviews means more good reviews, good reviews means happy authors, and happy authors mean greater productivity. So please read and review.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

The two Valentine privates that had detached themselves from their patrol routes couldn't help but take pleasure in pillaging a nearby convenience store that had been left half-destroyed and completely abandoned in the Fort Regner township. They were young men, both of them only just nearing their twenties, and found themselves with an unopened packet of cigarettes. Tobacco had been banned in Valent five years ago – the government decided its effects to health were detrimental – so while they had never smoked a cigarette before, they grew up watching the adults do so, and good old curiosity took over when they discovered what was effectively a taboo item in the convenience store. Neither felt particularly guilty as they preoccupied themselves with finding themselves attempt to find a lighter or a match in the darkness of the store in an attempt to light their cigarettes.

Neither soldier noticed the manhole cover on the street just outside the door of the convenience store tilt open by several centimeters either. Several seconds later, there were two muted spits from the barrel of a handgun, effectively silenced by both the in-built suppressor of the weapon and the acoustic dynamics of being fired from within a manhole. The two Valentine privates did not so much as scream before they hit the ground instantly, disappearing into the darkness of the store.

Ten seconds passed before the manhole cover finally slid away, and, just a moment afterward, a blond young man in a green Valentine special forces uniform and wielding a gunsword pulled himself onto the street, adopted a crouching position with his gunsword drawn in handgun mode, and surveyed the street for further threats before patting the rim of the manhole twice. On cue, two civilians – first a young male teenager, followed closely by a young girl who could not have been more than seven – climbed out from the manhole, and scrambled across the asphalt of the street before ducking into the convenience store to hide for cover. Only after those two civilians were safely hidden did Link finally push the manhole cover back into place and join them, disappearing into the shadows.

Pressing himself against the walls of the convenience store to survey their situation and location, Link couldn't help but notice that the young girl, Lily, looked at the two Valentine bodies on the ground with anxiety and fear. He didn't blame her; it was unlikely she had ever seen violence on such a scale before.

Having freed the teenage boy – who went by the name of Buddy, something that Link sensed Durandara humorously thought was more of a dog's name but was tactful enough not to comment on – from the jailhouse, Link then escorted both Buddy and Lily down the underground service corridors. What was supposed to be a three hundred meter trip, however, was cut short near the very end when the group discovered that the end of the corridor, supposedly leading to the fire station to the east, had caved in and collapsed, leaving an insurmountable pile of rubble that blocked their path. They were then forced to double back, finding an alternative exit, a ladder that led up to the streets of the Fort Regner township through a manhole.

According to Durandara's readouts, they were eighty meters short of where they could've been, right in the fire station just a bit further east, but Link mentally moved past that point almost immediately when he discovered their predicament; Joint Intelligence agents didn't complain, but adapt.

Motioning for Buddy and Lily to remain hidden amongst the shelves of the convenience store where they hid, Link moved towards the back of the store, sweeping the area as he shifted his gunsword to longsword mode, checking for any potential enemy stragglers while moving towards the rear of the establishment. Admittedly, he hadn't wanted to kill the two Valentine privates whose bodies Link nonchalantly stepped over, but the risk of them spotting Link's small entourage as they emerged from the manhole had been too great…and he couldn't risk the two soldiers staying where they were for too long, not when the Hylian agent was in a hurry to find out where Anansi was. They were on a strict timetable.

Reaching the back end of the store, Link swiftly pulled open the door at the far wall, peered in. It was a small storage room, not at all unexpected for a convenience store. The room was empty of humans – alive or otherwise – and merchandise – most likely having been stolen through the course of the war. A door at the far end was marked as a restroom, but there were no other doors in sight. That troubled Link a bit; the lack of a back door essentially meant he was going to bring two civilians out into the open streets in order to move out of the town…something that would make them extremely vulnerable.

Link suppressed a sigh. One won some, one lost some. He was just going to have to do what he was trained to do: Adapt. Deciding that their little hideout was safe – for now – Link checked his watch; it was almost thirteen hundred hours now. He had been spending more time in Fort Regner than he had expected, and speed was of the essence.

Moving back outwards, Link began to assess his options, but he didn't get very far when – stepping out of the storage room – he suddenly found himself mildly surprised at the appearance of Lily right before him; she was significantly shorter, but the pretty white dress she was wearing managed to stand out in Link's vision before he crashed right into the girl. She was holding a bag of chocolate chip cookies in her hands, something that probably had been left untouched when the store was pillaged. Lily was still shaken and nervous – her quiet, timid, and trembling voice indicated that – but she still managed to hold up the bag a bit towards Link to compensate for their discrepancy in height. "D-Do you want some cookies?" she made out quietly. "I thought you might be…hungry."

Admittedly, Link _was_ a bit hungry – he hadn't eaten anything since his MRE on the Gerudo transport plane while flying here – but it wasn't nearly at unbearable levels. A bit of hunger always kept him awake and alert, anyways, so he shook his head; it was better that the civilians were fed for now. Regardless, Link patted Lily gently on the head anyways; that was a remarkably thoughtful gesture for a little girl stuck in a warzone, and the only thing that stopped Link from smiling was his natural disposition and the worry that his attempt at smiling would make a fool out of himself again. It convinced him that he needed, at some point, practice where emoting was concerned.

Lily grimaced at the petting of her head – Link heavily suspected that the little girl was actually trying to smile – before looking around a bit. The agent wondered exactly whom Lily was looking for until those wide eyes returned to him, asked, "Where's the pretty lady?"

Almost immediately, the holographic form of Durandara appeared right between them at eye level with Lily, slowly lighting into existence. Link had a feeling that, despite hiding it fairly well from her holographic appearance, Durandara was extremely amused at the progression of events. "What is it, Lily?" the AI cooed. Link personally found it amusing, to his credit, that Durandara actually sounded fairly cutesy even in her slightly disembodied AI voice.

Again, the little girl outstretched her arms with the cookie bag in hand. "Would you like some cookies?" she asked innocently.

Now Link actually had to try hard to stifle a smile. Durandara didn't bother, although she masked it with a more pleasant version of the curve of her lips a moment afterwards, trying to seem kind and pleasant more than anything else. "No, I'm not hungry," she replied, deciding that an explanation on how artificial intelligences don't get hungry might be lost on a five-year-old girl. The lilt in her voice betrayed to Link that she was on the verge of laughter. "But thank you very much, Lily."

"You're welcome," Lily managed to nod before turning around and walking shyly over to Buddy, probably to ask him the same question. This was confirmed as Link watched Buddy look slightly surprised before taking a cookie from the bag, muttering a quick "thanks" before wolfing down the cookie. Having been stuck in a prison cell for some time had probably starved him.

"Isn't she an adorable little thing?" Durandara had rematerialized on Link's shoulder, playfully kicking and swinging her legs to and fro, whispering directly into his ear as she watched the spectacle. Her voice all but told him that she was grinning. "_She_ thinks _I'm_ a pretty lady."

Link suppressed another grin and rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses.

It was after a few minutes of giving Buddy and Lily a chance to sate their appetites that Link motioned towards them to get up; it was time to move. He peered out the shattered windows of the convenience store, cautiously looking down both sides of the street. Valentine patrols in the area were light; it seemed that they were more concerned about holding down the fort instead of the entire township, which, all things considered, was a fairly sound strategic decision. It made their position all the more unassailable…but it also gave Link enough room to sneak around. That didn't translate into a chance to be reckless, though; there were still patrols going around, and the last thing Link wanted to do was to go through another high-speed vehicle chase as he did back in Hyrule City. Not with the current stakes at hand, and not with two civilians to watch over.

Ensuring that there was nothing out there that would be an immediate threat, Link slowly crept out of the convenience store, taking cover upon the wreckages of cars and armored vehicles, noting once more all the destruction that had taken place in the area. Crumbled walls, collapsed buildings, rubble-filled streets, burning wreckages, lifeless corpses…they were strewn all across Fort Regner, and, once again, all the carnage impressed upon him a great sense of urgency.

It was almost an entire week – almost a full seven days – since this war started.

Link gestured for Buddy and Lily to follow closely behind as he continued to move down the sidewalk at a cautious crouch, trying to find as much cover as possible. They dutifully followed and, for the most part, stayed quiet.

The entire process was followed by practically half an hour of standard leapfrog advancement. From time to time, there would be stretches of open area with no cover in between that Link couldn't simply take both of them to navigate through while expecting to remain unseen. While he didn't necessarily regret his decision of trying to save civilians, the agent was well aware that both Buddy and Lily were liabilities, unarmed, unprepared, and untrained. Thankfully, these stretches of open area rarely extended more than twenty meters – they were generally stretches of street with no wreckages or cover in between – and were mercifully few, but Link didn't like taking chances. He would motion for both Buddy and Lily to remain where they were, and maneuver his way towards the next stretch of cover as stealthily as he possibly could, which sometimes included crawling his way over or finding more unconventional forms of cover. Only after he reached the other side and surveyed the area once more to check for threats did he wave at Buddy and Lily to make a dash to where Link was hiding – most likely behind another vehicle – while covering them, ensuring that anything that might suddenly appear and spot them would go down very quickly.

Admittedly, Link's greatest worry was Lily. The agent wasn't immune to a protective tendency to watch over the younger girl, but his concerns also extended over to the fact that the discrepancies in physical capabilities were extremely wide. Buddy, at the very least, was nimbly athletic enough to keep pace with Link – then again, the teenager wasn't carrying combat equipment, but most people weren't expected to be as nimble as most Joint Intelligence agents were – but Lily's short stature – and, by extension, short legs – greatly limited the speed at which she could run and rejoin the group, and Buddy certainly was in no mood to slow down his own speed by carrying Lily while he ran. Link wouldn't have suggested it either; it increased the likelihood in which _both_ of them would be spotted if teenager had to give the girl a piggyback ride.

Buddy was not unobservant enough to miss this fact either. "She's slowing us down," he hissed at Link as soon as he slid right behind cover next to the agent after their sixth time sprinting through an open street as Link carefully watched for sudden movement from anywhere. He looked around, agitated; the ugliness of selfish survival instincts was beginning to kick in, and it was apparent Buddy saw Lily as more of a liability than ever Link did. "Leave her. It's not like they'll shoot her anyways."

Although she didn't actually materialize into a figure of light, Durandara's voice – made loud enough for even Buddy to hear – was clearly laced with annoyance. "You're slowing _us_ down," she snapped just before Lily finally completed the last few meters of her run to rejoin the group, mercifully sparing the girl the realization that she was slowing everyone down. "Perhaps we should leave you behind? They're not likely to shoot _you_ either."

Buddy decided he wasn't going to press the point.

For the most part, however, their exfiltration had gone largely unopposed. Sounds of occasional vehicle patrols resonated in the form of engines in the distance from time-to-time, but there had otherwise been little visual contact with enemy forces of any kind. Link could only count three times in which he had seen Valentine forces, only one out of these encounters having been close enough in proximity for Link to consider actually taking them out. But the infantrymen had lazily passed by, not having spotted Link, Buddy, and Lily hiding behind the wreckage of a humvee, allowing the three escapees to sneak quietly behind them into another street.

All things considered, though, the situation was dire and tense. Sneaking through the township by himself might've been difficult, but Link was doing so with two vulnerable packages in a hot zone. He could not be discovered – or, at least, he could not allow unsuppressed fire to go off or for his enemies to radio for help – lest Valentine reinforcements completely surround him on the wrong end of far too much manpower and firepower. Every passing minute was a chance that they'd be discovered…and despite managing to keep calm and focused, Link admittedly was feeling nervous and tense about the entire ordeal.

"Another two hundred meters before we reach the outskirts of Fort Regner," Durandara informed him as they made a left turn down a particularly large downtown street, now heading northwards; seemingly, she had picked up on his anxiety, probably by analyzing his biometric signs. "Radio traffic indicates that the area is not as patrolled. We can seek cover in the foliage just outside the town."

Durandara, trying to be considerate. Link merely nodded silently, stoically; inwardly, though, he was privately glad for the silent, unspoken encouragement. Just short of a minute and practically fifty meters afterwards, however, he would discover his moment of comfort was short-lived.

"Motion up ahead detected," Durandara suddenly whispered in a voice just loud enough for all three Hylians to hear, her voice urgent and alert. "Twelve o'clock, fifty-three meters down to the north. Seek cover!"

Link saw it a split second after the artificial intelligence's warning, and, together with Buddy and Lily, quickly moved to the side, pressing themselves against a bus that was surprisingly intact but otherwise completely abandoned. Peering just slightly past the corner of the bus, he saw what Durandara was referring to; silhouettes were seeming moving amongst a pile of wreckage just a bit more than fifty meters further down the street, taking up what looked like flanking positions or seeking cover. The shadows provided by the wreckage made it difficult to tell exactly who they were, but Link didn't want to take any chances.

"That looks like a possible ambush point," Durandara murmured; her holographic form was notably dimmer this time, floating in the air as she also peeked around the corner, presumably to make herself harder to see by whoever was on the other side. "Running through imagery archives, undergoing frame-by-frame analysis…" Numbers and symbols streamed down her holographic form for a few seconds before shaking her head. "No good. It was too dark for me to adjust the image for anything conclusive." A second pause; although Link couldn't tell, Durandara was attempting to probe the air for any noteworthy electronic signatures. "No FOF tags detected. Whoever's down there knows their stuff." She frowned, swiveled her head around to look at Link. "We should double-back, see if we can find another way out."

Link agreed. Regardless of whether the forces up ahead were Hylian or Valentine, the fact that they were setting up ambush positions did not bode well for the entourage of three either way. If those hiding in the shadows were Hylian, they could mistake Link for a real Valentine special forces officer. If they were Valentine, he'd be attracting a great deal of undue attention. It was better to play it safe; from where he crouched, he turned around, preparing to sneak in the other direction…when he realized that there were moving shadows on the other side as well, human silhouettes moving down stealthily on the other end of the street to the south, also about fifty meters away.

They were trapped, with assailants on both ends of the street and them caught in the middle.

Suppressing a very real urge to scowl, Link began to run through his memories. This was definitely an ambush, but…where had they been caught? How had he managed to give up their position? He had been certain that their attempt to sneak out of Fort Regner had gone completely unnoticed; he simply couldn't recall any portion of their escape that could've been compromised. There were a few close calls, yes, but the Valentine patrols hadn't seen them. Where had he slipped up? Where had he been careless?

"Pulling maps and calculating alternate escape routes," Durandara, seemingly aware of the situation, said in a voice that sounded remarkably tight despite being digitalized; she, too, wasn't fond of their predicament or chances. "Hang on."

Link shook his head; that was not necessary. On the other side of the street, there was an alley that led eastwards, which, hopefully, wasn't a dead end and led to the adjacent street where an escape was potentially possible. There was little cover in between outside a small number of vehicles and debris, however…meaning any dash towards the alley would effectively put them within the crossfire of two Valentine squads.

The predicament was not lost upon Lily, who remained silent, but fixed her wide, worried eyes anxiously upon Link, fear overriding any of her self-preservation instincts at the moment; she seemed to have picked up on the near-hopelessness of the situation, and looked close to tears. Buddy, on the other hand, was not reserved at all about his own impression of their dilemma. "Dude," he hissed, his eyes wide and agitated and fearful. "We are _screwed_! What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"Calm down," Durandara snapped impatiently; she looked distracted and irritated at the same time. "I'm trying to find a way out, so stop getting on my nerves."

Buddy twisted his face into an unpleasant expression. "Well, you better hurry, because you got us into this mess in the first place!"

Although Link managed to hold his own feelings in check – years of training had allowed his power over self-control to be proportionate to the amount of stress he was facing – he had the feeling that Durandara wished she had an actual physical form, if only so she could punch Buddy across the face. Before the AI could fire a particularly nasty retort, however, a loud, distinct sound of jettisoned air suddenly was heard…a sound that Link immediately attributed from memory to…

"Anti-tank rocket!" Durandara hollered. "Get down! _Get down_!"

Link's arms quickly came around both Buddy and Lily's shoulders, holding onto them tightly as he dropped to the ground from his crouching position, making sure both of them were flat on the ground. It might not do them a great deal of good; the rocket was likely to have been fired from an infantry-held, shoulder-mounted delivery system, a light anti-tank weapon that could tear through lightly armored vehicles such as armored personnel carriers, turning them into burning, smoldering, exploding wrecks…and a city metro bus wasn't armored at all.

But just a split-second later, the sound of the speeding rocket traveling at more than one hundred meters per second – something that had been growing louder and was expected to end with a massive bang very close by – whizzed right past the bus, growing lower in volume until, another split-second later, there was an explosion in the distance, fifty meters to the north. Link ventured a look up from where he was pressing both Buddy and Lily to the ground – ignoring Buddy's attempt to push the agent off of him, as the teenager had fallen uncomfortably close to the corpse of a Hylian infantryman having been riddle with anti-personnel bullets – and saw that the rocket actually had not been aimed at the bus they were hiding behind…but the pile of wreckages to their north where they had first saw the flanking formations down the street. And, with that explosion, the street around him suddenly exploded in a cacophony of gunfire as forces on both ends of the street suddenly began to exchange rapid automatic gunfire with assault rifles and machine guns.

That was when Link realized that he hadn't been found after all; this was a showdown between a Hylian platoon to the north and a Valentine platoon to the south.

Gunfire erupted on both sides, bullets flying to and fro in a fast-paced exchange, lines of light dividing the streets while burning orange tracers streaked through the air. It wasn't just bullets that were being exchanged either; every now and then, the swooshing sounds of a rocket being launched could be heard on both sides, ending invariably in an explosion that somehow didn't seem to reduce the frequency of the shooting. What the rockets _did_ succeed in, however, was leaving contrails of smoke in the air, which slowly began to dissipate into a slight fog and haze that settled across the street.

"We've got Hylian _and_ Valentine munitions flying through the air, Link," Durandara confirmed what Link had suspected despite not actually having had visual confirmation for himself. "The Hylian forces in front of us and Valentine forces to the rear. Both sides seem to be at platoon strength. They seem to be keeping each other busy."

Nodding, Link finally got back up in his crouching position and pressed himself against the bus once more. It was nice to know that they weren't the ones being targeted – and that neither Hylian nor Valentine forces even knew they were there – but a stray rocket that struck the bus could still mean the death of them. They had to hurry. The agent ventured a look at his civilian cares again; Buddy seemed frantic, looking left and right with wide-eyed alarm, while Lily seemed to have locked herself into a fearful ball, trembling at the massive stimulation of her poor senses.

"We don't have the luxury of trying to reinforce friendly forces right now," the artificial intelligence urged, noting that the firefight hardly seemed to be dying down at all. "We couldn't convince them that we're Hylian, not as the situation stands. I don't know about you, but now seems like a _very_ good time to make a break for it."

Link agreed, pointed across the street to the alley on the other side, indicating to Durandara that they were going to have to use that as an escape route. It meant running just a bit more than fifteen meters through heavy fire…but with all the smoke and dust in the air, they at least had a semblance of cover. Once they made the fifteen meter sprint and into the alley, they'd be safe from pretty much all gunfire, and could move eastward out of the firefight before heading north into the forests for cover, where it would be more difficult for ambush parties to track them down…an area where Hylian forces were hopefully taking refuge in.

Durandara nodded as she traced the trajectory of Link's finger, silently agreeing with his assessment. Turning to Buddy and Lily, the AI had to raise her voice to make herself heard above the gunfire and explosions. "We're going to have to make a run for the alley on the other side of the street!" she shouted, her words occasionally punctuated by bullets ricocheting off the bus they were hiding behind. "They're all busy shooting at each other, so we have a good chance of making it across! Agent Link will lay down covering fire to distract the shooters; Buddy, you're going to have to take Lily and make the sprint into the alley!"

Not at all surprisingly, Buddy shook his head adamantly; Link foresaw this possibility – running across an area right between two forces shooting at each other required quite a bit of courage – but he didn't _quite_ expect the reason the teenager gave for his refusal. "No way," he scowled, his eyes even more bloodshot than before. "I'm not taking her; she's only going to slow me down!"

What Buddy said was true, of course, but it was his utter selfishness that grated onto what passed for Durandara's nerves. "Making only _one_ run will be safer than _two_, you imbecile," she snarled; it was, of course, a slight ploy in hopes of fooling Buddy into thinking that taking Lily was advantageous. It wasn't true, of course, but short of forcing him to bring Lily along – something ill-advised in the middle of a firefight – deception was the only real option the artificial intelligence had left.

Unfortunately for her, Buddy didn't fall for it. "Safer for _her_ maybe," he shot back, his movements becoming increasingly erratic as adrenaline coursed through his body; he twitched his gaze left and right at different times, especially whenever bullets started ricocheting off their metallic cover. The last place he wanted to be was here, and he wanted _out_. "But like hell I'm going to be a sitting duck. I'm getting out of here!" And, already, he was back on his feet, backing up while keeping his eyes cautiously trained on Link and Durandara, moving towards the corner around the bus, seemingly prepared to make a run for it.

"Wait!" Durandara shouted, an arm reaching out as if hoping to grab him somehow, but Buddy was in no mood to "wait". He had quickly moved out of cover, seeing that there was enough room for him to make sudden moves without being grabbed by Link, and – in a remarkably and surprisingly swift sprint – rounded the corner of the bus, headed for the alley on the other side. Link was admittedly surprised – if not a little bit stunned – at the suddenness of this chain of events, but was eventually brought back to reality by the same sentiment that prevented him from hoping that Buddy got hit for his lack of concern for others. The need to save others took precedence over any opinion Link may have formed towards someone else.

He quickly reached down towards corpse of the Hylian soldier on the pavement he had pressed Buddy next to earlier, swiftly grabbing the pistol sidearm in the slain warrior's hand, and proceeded to fire into the air from around the corner of the bus randomly. The point was not to hit anyone – he didn't actually want to hit any blue-colored Hylian soldiers, nor did he want to actually be seen firing at the green-suited infantrymen by Valentine forces – but to generate as much noise as possible. The standard Hylian handgun was unsuppressed, leading to loud bangs and muzzle flashes. With any luck, it would divert attention on both sides even further, giving everyone on the street less room to concentrate on Buddy. Bullets fired from both sides seem to creep closer towards his position, if the constant pinging off metal was any indicator, but the aim was still several meters off; it seemed as if both sides were now largely firing wildly into the cloud of dust and smoke that partially obscured Link and reduced him to a silhouette barely visible from behind cover.

The handgun clicked once, indicating that Link was out of ammunition after having shot bullets repeatedly into the air. Ducking back fully behind the bus, he spared just quick enough a look to see that Buddy – or, at least, his silhouette – had successfully made it to the other side of the street and into the safety of the alley…and didn't stop. He simply kept on running down the narrow gap between the buildings, and soon disappeared after turning a corner at the alley's end. Link decided to attribute Buddy's behavior to panic as he reached for the nearby corpse once more, trying to see if he could find another fifteen-round magazine for the Hylian sidearm.

"Asshole," Durandara spat, watching Buddy disappear from sight before deciding she was going to let this go. There were things she could take comfort in from his self-serving run. "At least we can consider that a test run." That, and the obligation of having to look after the drug addict freeing up. Turning to the five-year-old girl still nervously hugging her knees on the ground, Durandara softened her voice as much as she could, trying to work the girl out of her shock. "Lily, it's your turn. Get ready to run into the same alley Buddy just went into!"

Running out there was the last thing Lily wanted to do. She did not understand firefight dynamics or their chances of surviving this heated exchange, only that where she was _now_ was a nice place to duck into and that she wanted to stay until all those sounds and flashes and explosions went away. But if there was anything that could be credited to her, it was faithful obedience; despite the clear fear and reluctance, Lily slowly pulled herself back up onto her feet, assisted gently by Link as he spared a hand to lift her up.

The gunfire from behind cover now sounded much more indiscriminate, bullets spraying seemingly everywhere. There were less rockets in the air, but it seemed as if the earlier chain of miniature explosions had intimidated both sides enough to stay mostly behind cover without exposing one's head to aim…that, or the air was simply too saturated with the remains of smoke contrails from the rockets to take very careful aim. Quickly taking note of this, Durandara shouted, "They're starting to fire blind. Doesn't look like too many of them are aiming very deliberately. Now's our chance!" Her holographic form floated over to Lily, and, again, she tried to sound as gentle, soothing, and reassuring as the circumstances would permit. "Run as soon as Link starts shooting, Lily!"

Lily could only offer a stiff, frightened nod.

Link patiently waited even as he kept his head marginally out behind cover, watching for lulls and breaks in the firefight that could provide an opportunity for Lily to make her sprint. It didn't sound like the firefight was dying down at all, if the rapid flashes through the smoke were any indicator, but there would be times where the gunfire would becomes _less_ sporadic and _less_ concentrated…which would be a good opportunity for Lily to run for safety without being hit. The agent had already noted that these temporarily breaks in fast-paced exchanges of flying bullets generally occurred immediately after an anti-tank rocket was launched, so Link decided to use that as a cue to get Lily to run.

The familiar sound of a rocket being launched from the Hylian side of the street was exactly what Link needed.

With his right hand, Link quickly went around Lily's shoulder, wordlessly pushing her forwards as the girl, taking this as her physical cue, silently ran around the corner of the bus and began to run across the open street even as the rocket detonated fifty meters away to their right, and the bullets that saturated the air seemingly thinned out for just a moment. Immediately afterwards, Link quickly turned from around cover, began firing the loaded, unsuppressed Hylian pistol into the air once more, creating sounds and flashes that would, hopefully, draw attention towards him from both sides instead of towards the running girl whose outline and silhouette was still somewhat visible through the smoke and dust even as she fled. He still flinched away, however, when a three-round burst resulted in three bullets suddenly implanting themselves the headlights of the bus and shattering it no more than twenty centimeters away from Link's face; that was a bit _too_ close for comfort.

Expending the fifteen-round magazine of the Hylian handgun, Link returned slightly to cover, reloading the sidearm while keeping his eyes on Lily, watching as she finally managed to make it from the streets and onto the sidewalk on the other side, just two or three meters away from the entrance of the alley and the safety it provided from the firefight…

…And watched as a barely-visible spurt of blood suddenly erupted from Lily's chest, the telltale symptom of a bullet penetrating through a human's flesh, and – almost immediately after that – in almost horrifying slow motion, the girl fell face-first onto the sidewalk, and there she remained, motionless.

"_Lily_!" Durandara gasped even as Link formed a scowl on his face, swinging around the cover of the bus and beginning _his_ own run towards the wounded girl and the alley they had all been aiming for. The firefight was growing in earnest once more; not only did both sides start shooting at each other again, shadows and sounds from beyond the dust and smoke indicated that reinforcements had just arrived, adding more fuel – manpower, guns, and ammunition – to the fire. If Link was feeling anything but slightly-panicked at the moment, he would've appreciated the fact that they had managed to run when they did instead of waiting; the exchange of fire would've grown to exponential levels and made any potential escape all but impossible.

But the reinforcements were not anything Link was concerned at the moment.

He managed to come in fast and low; years of athletic training had taught the Joint Intelligence agent how to sprint even while keeping his body mostly below the average accepted "height" of a firefight, the elevation at which most bullets traveled when parties decided to dig in and exchange ammunition at terminal velocities. Making the run on his own had never been an excessive worry on his mind – not when he had been trained to avoid being hit and not when he was wearing light body armor – as much as it was making it with two civilians. He managed to cover the width of the street – almost fifteen meters – in just two seconds, finding himself beside Lily's tiny body on the sidewalk at the end of the sprint.

Her own blood was already beginning to pool around her body.

"Get her into the alley!" Durandara cried. Link didn't need any encouragement on that department; he swiftly wrapped a single arm around both of Lily's own – the girl was as light as a twig – before managing to pull both of them another fifteen meters into the dark alleyway.

His training in medical aid kicked in automatically, mechanically, even as Link slowly flipped Lily around so that she was lying flat on her back. The child was thankfully still alive and breathing, but the signs weren't good. Link could see that the round had gone in and out, penetrating her flesh through her chest. Lily was losing blood fast, swiftly recoloring her white dress crimson. The wound was at such a place that made it difficult for Link to pinpoint whether or not it hit any vital organs; it was in an area marginally close to the heart, but the specific location couldn't be pinpointed without medical equipment on hand.

Blood was slowly oozing out of Lily's mouth as her wide blue eyes tried to focus themselves on Link while rolling around chaotically. She didn't speak as much as she gasped and gagged and swallowed, mouthing words that seemed unintelligible at times even with Link's capabilities at lip-reading. If anything, she seemed to be very much aware that something terribly wrong had just happened…but had fallen into shock so fast that she was otherwise incapable of expressing it. Lily's skin had already gone horribly pale.

Swiftly removing his gloves and rolling up his sleeve, Link began to apply pressure to the wound even as one hand began to rip away at the sleeves of Lily's dress, intending on using the cloth as bandages. Even in the frantic atmosphere, he was very much aware that he couldn't afford to damage his Valentine uniform, not now.

"L-Link…?" came a hoarse whisper that Lily managed to make out even as blood slowly pooled in her mouth, even as Link pressed against her chest. It was followed by what seemed to be an attempt at coughing and gurgling gone wrong; the only sound that came out of her mouth sounded more like a small series of clicks than anything else. Despite this, Link still managed to look at Lily, making sure his face was within her line of sight, making sure that the girl knew he had heard and was paying attention.

It could've been possible that Link was surprised that Durandara was suddenly remarkably silent. He wasn't concentrating on anything else by Lily at the moment – even the firefight that he had left behind didn't factor much into his attention span – so the omission of speech had gone unnoticed, but had Link thought about that for a moment, he probably would've realized that the AI, her hologram floating behind Link, was now just looking at the scene with a saddened expression. Durandara knew things and could do things that humans couldn't. Within the first few seconds of seeing Lily up close, she had already discovered the bitter truth.

The girl wasn't going to make it.

Lily's head was already beginning to slowly rock left and right, her eyes beginning to listlessly roll even as Link finally managed to slip off Lily's severed sleeves, began to apply them to the wound as swiftly as he could. "It hurts," she made out in a tiny voice that sounded like a mixture between a moan, murmur, and stutter. "I-I-It…h-hurts…"

Despite trying his best to ignore an overpowering sensation of helplessness, Link began to realize the inevitable as well, but that didn't stop his movements any, didn't stop him from tightening the makeshift bandages around Lily's wound as he applied more pressure in the absence of any medical apparatuses on hand. Already, Lily's head was slowing in its motions, the rocking coming to a painful halt, while her eyes began to lose focus.

Keeping his gaze riveted on the girl beneath her, Link hardly noticed the slow flickering of holographic light behind him that increased slightly in brightness before stabilizing itself once more. And it was with that Lily's eyes suddenly widened for just a bit, focused over Link's shoulder for just the slightest of moments before tears began to pool in her eyes, streaming off eventually across the sides of her face. "Mama?" she whispered almost voicelessly; she tried to lift her hand, but it never managed to get off the ground after a few effortful twitches. Her lips trembled weakly, her entire body and being slowly coming to an excruciating and final stop. "M-Mama? Mama…I…I d-don't want t-to…to d-die…" Lily trailed off for a moment there, her entire jaw twitching just once at a cough or gurgle that never quite complete itself; she seemed almost dead to the world now. "I…d-don't…don't…"

And, never managing to complete her sentence, never managing to make it out of the city, never managing to see her parents once more, Lily's head tilted just slightly to the side, her blue eyes only half-closed, her body completely limp and motionless.

Link just silently stared – his face betrayed no shock or disbelief, only melancholic acceptance – standing back up, leaving Lily's deceased body at his booted feet. His hands were still moist with her blood. The fighting between Hylian and Valentine forces still raged beyond the alley and in the street, but it was hardly anything he paid attention to. There was only the girl, the dead girl, left with so many other unnamed bodies in a war-torn city, unknown, unburied, unmissed, unmourned in a dark, dirty alley of a ruined Hylian township.

_A truly horrible place to die in_.

From the corner of his eyes, Link barely caught a blur and a flicker before Durandara's holographic form restored itself to her usual miniature form. "There was nothing else you could've done, Link," Durandara tried to comfort the agent in a whisper, her holographic form hovering by his side even as her hand settled on Link's shoulder. He couldn't feel that, of course, outside a bit of static electricity, but the AI personally hoped as if the sentiment could be conveyed through human body language. "We did what we could and what we had to. It's time to move on."

A nod did not manifest itself in Link's reaction, nor did there seem to be any reaction at all. He just stood there, looking down as the seconds passed. His mind knew that he needed to let this pass – his mind knew that it _would _pass, that it was only going to be something that haunted him for a few hours, if not a few minutes, for everything else was that much more important – but for now, for this instant, the dreadful realization was hauntingly real.

Sympathetic to human emotion as Durandara was, she recognized the need for expedience and necessity, especially as the sounds of the firefight behind them escalated. "Link, we need to go," she urged after turning her head back around from looking behind them, but her voice was soft and not unkindly. "We still have a mission. They'll try flanking maneuvers from other streets soon; we need to get out of here before they do."

It was only this time that Link finally nodded, although it still took him another ten seconds before he finally peeled his gaze from Lily's body and slowly increased his slow stride to a swift jog, moving further down the alley and towards another avenue of escape where he could leave this all behind.

Not once did he look back.

* * *

"I'm picking up a different set of transmissions," Durandara announced, her voice directed specifically at Link's eardrums while she remained invisible. "They're weak, but nearby. It's encrypted, too. They must be trying to minimize the chances of being discovered by long-range triangulation. I'm betting these are the Hylian forces we're looking for. Give me a moment to access their encryption schemes so I can establish a line of communication with them."

It was nearly half an hour after escaping the crossfire between armed Hylian and Valentine forces that Link found himself aptly concealed in the foliage of the forests outside Fort Regner, hidden right at the edge of the woodlands where trees met rolling plains. Already, violence and carnage seemed to be a thing of the past; although black smoke still rose high into the sky from the war-torn township, most of the gunfire from the area had already died down to sporadic, infrequent levels, leaving Link to concentrate on the more important aspects of why he was out here: To find and destroy Anansi.

For one thing, as he lay prone and stomach-down in the tall grass and bushes, Lily's death was already something that was off his mind. Link wasn't heartless, merely pragmatic. Joint Intelligence took their national integrity very seriously…and, somewhere along the lines, he had accepted that it was a war, anyone could die, he couldn't save everyone, and saving the nation was more important. He dealt with it, and moved on.

Now, though, he found himself very short-pressed on time. It was fourteen hundred hours now, more than nineteen hours since Anansi was first detected attack Zubara and sixteen hours since Gerudo forces last saw the armored walker. How long would it take Anansi to return to its temporary refueling and resupplying station in Hylian territory? How long would it take to refuel and resupply the superweapon, for that matter? And was it even still in the area, or had it moved onto other operations where Link couldn't touch it anymore?

But those thoughts were overcome. He recognized that this mission had been suicidal from the start. The chances of him even surviving were low, never mind him actually completing it. Joint Intelligence agents were expected to pull off the impossible from time to time, but he was sure even Director Leonore would've agreed that this was exceptionally impossible. Link was just going to have to make the best of it.

"I have their FOF tags," Durandara finally announced after a few long moments as she winked into existence beside Link's head. "It's the 107th Infantry Battalion." A pause, and then she took a rather contemplative pose. "Curious. The 107th was stationed in October City, about one hundred kilometers north of here, not Fort Regner. I can only assume they came to either reinforce the defensive position, or attempt to take back the fort." Shrugging, her hologram snapped her fingers once before speaking, this time through the radio and presumably to the Hylian unit out there. "Hylian 107th, this is Hylian electronic special warfare package Durandara. Come in, 107th."

Silence was the only thing that "came in" after several seconds of waiting.

"They're not answering," the hologram frowned, placing her hands on her hips. "Probably wondering if this is a Valentine trap or not. Clever." Somehow, Link felt that Durandara was annoyed when she uttered that last word…as if she _resented_ the Hylians for being cautious when the two of them needed assistance from them. Regardless, she tried again. "I'm sending your encrypted handshake protocol codes for authentication, standby."

They waited longer this time; handshake protocol codes generally took longer to process and authenticate on the battlefield as opposed to a rear command center, but after a minute of waiting with no response, it was somewhat clear they weren't getting anywhere with this. Link personally wanted to continue north as soon as possible as opposed to staying here; the more time they wasted here, the less likely he was ever going to get to Anansi.

"Still nothing," Durandara muttered. "They might not have the proper equipment to authenticate our codes." Catching a look from Link, she broke into a grimace and looked at the agent irritably. "Yes, I'm certain they're actually out there and that we're not talking to ghosts, thank you."

The small grin on Link's face playfully suggested – somewhat teasingly – that the thought had never crossed his mind.

Turning her attention to her efforts to reach the 107th once more, Durandara calculated other potential options, then, finally, "The last game prior to this war was Panthers versus Reds at the TeleWorld Stadium in Salem." A flicker of symbols ran across the hologram, the AI trying to access new data. "Panthers won two-to-one."

Link actually had to take a few seconds to react to that before turning to look at Durandara with a quizzically raised eyebrow. It might be that he had never been a great fan of sports, but he wasn't entirely certain where Durandara came up with the idea that this was going to be a better way to confirm they were, indeed, Hylian to the 107th when everything else failed.

Durandara's somewhat resigned shrug, followed by a few more seconds of silence, clearly told that she wasn't exactly impressed with this particular attempt this time. "Well," she allowed, "I thought that was worth a shot. We may need to consider…"

The radio suddenly crackled. "Who made the winning score, over?" came a gruff male voice on the other end.

The widened eyes on both Link and Durandara showed that they were surprised to receive a response, and this betrayed itself even in Durandara's voice, who nevertheless managed a fairly swift reply so that she wouldn't miss out on the chance. "Toby, number thirty-four, at seventy-two minutes into the game," she answered.

A pause. "Standby." Then a click.

Link and Durandara exchanged looks; the artificial intelligence, not unfairly, looked rather annoyed and incredulous. "They responded to _that_?" she seemed to fume, although Link ventured she wasn't as upset as she was making herself out to be.

The voice on the radio hailed them once more. "Walk further into the forest," came the orders. "Hold your weapon upwards so we can see them."

Link threw a sidelong glance towards Durandara – an unspoken exchange about whether or not it was wise to "surrender" themselves to distrustful Hylian troops when the possibility of them detaining and impeding the mission was very real – before Link merely nodded and reached for his gunsword from its holster. "Acknowledged," Durandara spoke over the radio once more even as Link drew and unfolded his weapon into longsword mode in the same motion, holding it by the barrel of the gun component in the air as he walked closer to the forest. "Be advised, 203rd, operative is wearing a Valentine special forces uniform for a black op. Repeat, operative is wearing a Valentine special forces uniform for a black op, and is friendly. Do not fire on him."

"Copy that," acknowledged the voice.

It didn't take long before Link was joined by company; twenty seconds in, Link suddenly spotted five armed Hylian soldiers moving in from flanking positions, their assault rifles brought to bear and aimed not-at-all-subtly at Link as they closed in on his position. They still wore their blue Hylian fatigues indicating their allegiance, which allowed them to stick out against the predominantly green backdrop of the local foliage.

"Don't move," one of the soldiers, who was now standing just over five meters away from Link – here was a man who wanted to stay far out of reach of that gunsword in Link's hand, even if it wasn't help properly – commanded quietly, gesturing by tilting his rifle by the barest of angles. "Stay right where you are."

Link obeyed, allowing himself to be surrounded by all five soldiers at a dangerously compromising range. The five were effectively an expanded fireteam, five instead of the usual four, with four privates being led by a corporal. One of the corporals moved ahead right next to Link, took the gunsword from his hand before patting him down; they certainly weren't taking any chances. Eventually satisfied that he wasn't carrying anything else particularly dangerous, he turned around from where he was kneeling, nodded to the corporal, "He's just got this, sir."

The corporal nodded back, moving slightly apart with the fireteam to give Link moving room…or perhaps to give him wide enough a berth to remain safe in case he still had anything up his sleeve. Valentine special forces – even before the revolution – were one of the most dangerous military outfits on the continent, and this fireteam didn't delude themselves into thinking they could do what Valentine special forces could do. "Right, let's bring him back. Let's move, let's move!"

To their credit, the Hylians were quiet in their withdrawal, with three soldiers leveling their rifles on Link while two more covered the rear by pointing their own weapons towards Fort Regner in case there was any ambush from that direction. Link, for his part, merely went alone as he continued to walk on for about a minute before he finally spotted the first traces of the Hylian 107th.

The first impression Link surmised was that the battalion was severely undermanned. In fact, seeing the men before him, quietly holding the line as they conducted logistical operations in the area, looked more like a company than a battalion, what with only about two dozen, maybe three, uniformed Hylian infantrymen within immediate view. Of course, Link knew that wasn't the case; the battalion was likely to be stretched out across the woodlands where heavy vehicles had no easy access, where fighting had to be done man-to-man, where long-range weapons had greatly diminished effect. For the most part, the soldiers seemed to have dug in, with some trenches and foxholes being dug here and there for extra cover. Whatever the 107th's objectives were, it seemed redundant to say that they expected to be here for a while.

That said, however, Link was relatively surprised when he was stopped before a non-commissioned officer, a sergeant. Here he had been expecting to meet the colonel of the battalion, or perhaps a lieutenant of some sort, but a sergeant seemed fairly far down the ranking roster for dealing with such a situation. The sergeant, to his credit, seemed to be a rather large man; he certainly wasn't obese – on the contrary, he looked rather fit – but he simply seemed wider and broader than his comrades as he folded his arms and sized up Link before him. There was a no-nonsense attitude about him that made the lines in his grim face more pronounced, and the dirt that had gathered here and there on his face seemed to indicate they had been seeing quite a bit of action ever since they deployed to Fort Regner.

After deciding he had gleamed enough information as he could by looking at Link wordlessly, he gave a subtle look around, questioned to just about everyone in general, "Where's the lady back on the radio?"

"That would be me," Durandara's voice suddenly spoke at conversational volume, attracting the attention – and alarmed surprised – of everyone within earshot, some of whom immediately had their hands on a weapon. "Hold your fire, and don't shoot." And, just like that, to the bewildered and stunned stares of everyone present, her hologram slowly flickered to life, forming the shape of a robed quarter-meter tall young woman in midair. Her face clearly showed that she was quite pleased with herself as she looked around at the stares of the Hylian men…and she was quite certain that they were not acting this way simply because they hadn't seen a woman in a long time. Even the stoic sergeant seemed mildly surprised and impressed.

After several moments of silence, someone – a corporal – finally broke the silence as he muttered the words that every Hylian soldier present had in their mind at the moment. "Holy _shit_. Is that…?"

Durandara was obviously remarkably satisfied at all the awed attention everyone was now giving her. "I'm electronic special warfare package Durandara," she gave her grinning introduction before gesturing to Link beside her, mentioning almost as if it was an aside, "This is Agent Link of Joint Intelligence." She looked at the sergeant in front of her once more before accessing military personnel dossiers, finding a face match shortly afterwards. "You are Sergeant James, service number 2287421J, commanding officer of 2nd Platoon, Charlie Company, 107th Infantry Battalion."

The awed silence lasted just for a moment longer, which was finally broken once again as there was a sudden yelp and crash. Heads turned towards the source of the sound, finding a soldier unceremoniously sprawled across the ground; apparently, he had been leaning in too far from where he sat on a tree to get a better look at Durandara, and had temporarily lost his awareness of balance.

"Only one person I know who can pull off this kind of shit," Sergeant James finally seemed to be the first to snap back to reality, allowing his crossed arms to slide back down to his side as he looked at Durandara. Heads around him nodded; it was widely accepted that only their princess was capable of the kind of magic necessary to allow for something like Durandara to exist. The atmosphere suddenly became that much less tense as James nodded towards his soldiers. "Weapons safe, and give the agent back his weapon. Care if I ask what you're doing in this neck of the woods in a Valentine spec ops uniform?" Link took the gunsword offered back to him by the private who had been holding onto it; he switched it back to handgun mode with a bit of a flourish and holstered it, surprising and impressing a few of the Hylian enlisted nearby who had most likely never seen such a weapon, never mind it being used in the hands of someone on their own side. Most soldiers had a healthy respect for the gunsword, and didn't want to be caught anywhere near its swinging range.

In the meantime, Durandara swiftly explained their situation. "We're under direct orders from Princess Zelda to sabotage the Valentine superweapon Anansi," she explained in a matter-of-fact matter, directing her attention to Sergeant James.

Excited murmurs around them indicated that this was news to the 107th. "Her Highness has been evacuated?" James raised his eyebrows; even he didn't know this.

"Yes, Sergeant. She's currently coordinating joint operations with Generalissimo Ganondorf in Garuda. She hasn't been successful in reaching most Hylian military elements due to the heavy ECM, however. Have you been able to establish radio contact with anyone else?"

The sergeant crossed his arms, twisted his lips to the side in what was probably a gesture of mild frustration. "We had a good line of contact with Rear Admiral Chester on the _Astraea_ about three days ago," he explained gruffly, looking around as he did so as if expecting to see something or someone. "He was coordinating army operations from his ship…" He snorted. "Tells you how FUBAR the situation is, a navy admiral armchairing ground ops. But we lost contact with him yesterday. We don't know if it's just ECM or if they sunk his ship or equipment failure. We also picked up a few broken transmissions from Major General Morgan, but we couldn't tell where he was. I don't think he received our replies either. We have sporadic contact with units along the east coast, but we're keeping radio traffic to a minimum."

Durandara ran quick calculations; that was less than fifteen percent of all known Hylian military outfits. The figures did not look good. "No other Hylian units?" she pressed.

The sergeant shrugged. "We've been having the same ECM problems." Tilting his head to the side, he looked past the artificial intelligence's hologram, nodded once at Link, who had, for the duration of the conversation, remained completely silent. "JI spook doesn't talk much, does he?"

The holographic lips twisted into a smirk. "No, he doesn't, but it leaves me some peace and quiet," Durandara teased, which caused Link to twist his own lips into a slight grimace; she seemed to be doing that poking fun business quite a bit. "Where's Colonel Jan?"

Uncomfortable glances exchanged amongst the soldiers told Durandara that this wasn't the right question to ask, but James didn't seem to mind answering that question, even if he exhaled slowly, blowing air in what was almost a sigh. "The colonel was killed in the fighting. As were most of our officers. I'd hate to say it, but," he patted himself once on the chest, continued, "you're looking at the ranking officer of the 107th right now."

Link and Durandara exchanged a look. A sergeant running battalion ops? That was _very_ bad.

"We were hit in a pretty bad way last night," James continued, sheepishly kicking the dirt beneath him with the tip of his boot. "We came to reinforce Fort Regner, hoping to be able to use that as a bastion to coordinate operations in southern Hyrule, but we got blindsided by some kind of quadruped Valentine tank." He shook his head before removing his helmet, scratching at his short-crop hair. "Crazy shit. Never seen anything like it."

With another snap of her fingers, a second hologram appeared right in front of Durandara for all to see, and the light show materialized into a model of Anansi – the hologram of the superweapon was actually larger than Durandara's own – undoubtedly formulated from what video recordings Gerudo managed to procure. The soldiers, having been standing in a rough circle, gathered closer together in keen interest, although it was debatable as to what they were more interested in, getting a better look at the Valentine weapon or getting close to the first three-dimensional holograms they had ever seen. "That superweapon is what Valentine forces have codenamed Anansi," she explained, outstretching her hand towards the model while it slowly spun it midair. "You're not the only ones having been blindsided, sergeant; Gerudo forces up and down the line have been hit very hard by its attack. Gerudo has been putting up a fierce fight on the western front, so Valent is looking for a way in from the north. That's why they sent Anansi through Fort Regner." Durandara allowed her arm to drop back to her side, and, in the same instant, the hologram of the walker tank flickered and faded away. "We have orders from her Highness to destroy the weapon."

A nearby private blew a low whistle, which reflected the mood of every 107th man present. "One man against that thing?" he muttered in disbelief.

"We're hoping to locate its refit and refueling station and sabotage it before it becomes combat-capable and sorties. Do you have any idea where it is?"

It was here that James cleared his throat, and attention was returned to the sergeant. "Actually, I think I do. Valent set up shop in October City while we came here to reinforce Fort Regner. We haven't been able to break most Valentine encryption codes, but judging by the traffic, we're guessing that it's their main base of operations in the county, since they also commandeered the airport for their own jets and bombers. Most of their supplies are probably going to be there too. If this Anansi thing is going to be rearmed, October City's my best guess."

"That's still another hundred kilometers north," Durandara mused, crossing her arms as she calculated this new data, pitted distance with time and geographic data. "We're going to have to hurry." She looked around, reanalyzed all the faces around her, and lamented the fact that none of these men seemed to be the intelligence specialist attached to the 107th. "Do you have any intel on enemy forces in the area? If we manage to sabotage Anansi, we may need a quiet extraction route leading back to the border."

"There are a few sporadic patrols further north," James nodded as he gestured further into the forest and past it, recalling everything that he had been thrown into for the past week. "Most of them are on foot, though, and the bulk of their force has moved eastwards towards the coast to take the last few cities our armed forces our putting up a serious fight in. As far as I know, the areas west of us are pretty clear, so if you need a quick getaway, I'd suggest staying west of Fort Regner." He looked thoughtful, then turned to a nearby soldiers in the circle, nodded. "Corporal, give him your sniper."

The soldier next to James nodded, looping the rifle's sling around his head and off his shoulder before handing it to Link. The rifle was a slightly older model, but it seemed that they had managed to keep the weapon in good condition nonetheless, with very few telltale signs of wear and tear. It wasn't particularly elongated either – it was just about two hundred centimeters over a meter in length – meaning it was easier to sling around compared to sniper rifles of heavier caliber that most sniper teams carried nowadays. Durandara, for her part, identified the weapon almost immediately. "A MSG10EBR," she remarked in subdued fascination; part of her tone indicated at hints of irony. That said, Link recognized the rifle as well. A semi-automatic sniper rifle manufactured a bit more than two decades ago by Valent, it was one of the most accurate sniper rifles in the world, initially designed for police use until military variants were developed. The MSG10 Enhanced Battle Rifle had an effective range of eight hundred meters, a muzzle velocity of eight hundred and sixty-eight meters per second, it was considered to be one of the most accurate sniper rifles of its time, and remained a favorite amongst sharpshooters despite its age. The model itself had aged and was being eased out by newer rifles due to the MSG10's lack of customizability, but this one was unique; it had a suppressor and a new telescopic sight, indicating a high level of modification only possible from restructuring.

"We bought several thousands of them from Valent twenty years ago, and it seems like they're still using them," James nodded, a grin coming onto his face for the first time since Link saw him. "A few of them Valentine special forces use these rifles too, so you should be able to mix in. Hopefully, this might be able to help you pick off a few patrols if you need a way in. I say it's high time to give them a taste of their own lead."

"The suppressor isn't supposed to be there, though," the corporal quickly cautioned, pointing at the end of the sniper rifle's barrel as he did so. "MSG10's weren't supposed to chamber subsonic ammunition, but re-engineering managed to change that to suppress the weapon's report. It'll make you stand out, though, so you might want to make sure those bastards on the other side don't look too close." That said, though, the smile on his face seemed to indicate he was relatively fond of the firearm. "This one's directly restructured from a police-issue MSG10A1 into an enhanced-battle rifle, so it's got some inherent issues that we can't work out, like how it doesn't pack as much power, and how the structure's just a bit brittle. Still, she'll shoot straight and true. More accurate than most EBRs, actually. Great for urban warfare, although it's damn good for everything else too. A bit sensitive, though, so treat her like you would a lady: Gently."

Link allowed Durandara to take care of everything else even as he looped the strap of the sniper rifle around his shoulder, making sure it was securely in place; it was nice to know he had an effective long-range weapon now. "Thank you, corporal," Durandara offered her winning smile before turning back to the current acting commander of the 107th. "Sergeant, you and your men should give up Fort Regner and see if you can hold out until Princess Zelda can establish communications with the rest of the Hylian fighting force, or – alternatively – try to break south into Gerudo."

"We'll keep that in mind, but we can't quite pull out yet." James tilted his head deeper into the woods, where, presumably, the rest of the battalion was taking up positions. "We're still trying to evac the civvies that we managed to get out of the area. It's too risky to try to move them out of here, so we're waiting until we get them evaced further east."

Catching a barely perceptible look from Link, one of curiosity, Durandara immediately added, "We've been meaning to ask about that. There seems to be a lack of civilians in Hyrule at the moment; either there are limited bodies in the area, or we can't seem to find any at all. It doesn't seem as if the enemy is occupying the cities under martial law either. Do you have any idea what's going on?"

Nodding gravely, James admitted, "I do. This is something you might want to keep in mind, but it looks like Valent has been pretty damn careful when it came to bombardment. They've kept most of our rail systems intact, and a lot of their trains have been running on our tracks. Word is that they're putting what civvies they can grab onto these trains and then sending them west." Again, he toed the dirt beneath his boots, seemingly an idle gesture to relieve some of the stress he was undoubtedly under. "Where to, I don't know, although I'm guessing back to Valent. Still, it doesn't make sense. As far as I know, this is a mass effort. It almost looks like a goddamn exodus. In fact, they're spending more effort putting civvies on the trains then identifying their own dead."

There were a great many possibilities as to why Valent could be shipping Hylian civilians eastwards, but none that stood out with the severe lack of information Durandara had at hand right now, the volume proving to be insufficient for coming up with a conclusive answer as to what was going on. "And you don't know what's going on?" she asked.

"No idea," the sergeant shrugged. "We had a wounded POW some days ago, but she died before we could get any answers out of her."

Well, that seemed to be that. They had all the information they needed, and it seemed as if their only option was to make for October City at best speeds. "I understand," acknowledged Durandara even as Link shifted his weight, preparing to turn, leave, and summon Epona from where he had stashed it in the woods on the other side of Fort Regner. "We have to move on now. Please try to establish contact with her Highness in Garuda, and good luck, sergeant."

"We will," James agreed, and, for a moment, that seemed to be the end of the conversation as the surrounding soldiers peeled off of the circle to give Link room to leave…but, at the very last second, just as Link began to turn away into a walk in the opposite direction, the sergeant suddenly added a question to their conversation. "By the way. It's a stretch, but did you run into any other civilians along the way?"

Both Link and Durandara looked at James with a measure of surprise; they _had_, of course, but between James suddenly mentioning this and the discomfort of treading upon this particular subject, they were momentarily phased into a lack of response.

Thankfully, the sergeant chose to interpret that surprise and quiet for confusion, and didn't seem suspicious at all. "We managed to get most of the civilians out in time during the evacuations," he quickly explained, "but we still have a handful of MIAs on the civilian side. Now, I usually wouldn't be very worried, but there's a five-year-old girl lost in there somewhere, and her parents have been crying to me day and night to go looking for her." Putting the helmet back onto his head, James actually looked a bit sheepish, if not frustrated. "Now I'm a bleeding heart, but I can't send my men back in there just to conduct a rescue op as is; they've already got their hands full raising nine kinds of hell for Valentine forces in Fort Regner."

The question struck a chord with Link, who, despite remaining unflinchingly stoic and expressionless before the 107th, still suddenly felt the air around him turn cold. Very fresh memories of a five-year-old girl in a bloodstained white dress, lying lifeless on alley pavement, returned to Link, and suddenly, Lily became that much more than just a girl or a civilian or a package…but a life, a story, one with a family. But that flame was extinguished, that story came to an end, that life was swept aside, and her parents, unaware of this, were still looking for her.

Somehow, that made Link's own failure feel that much heavier. His head also felt heavier even as he struggled to casually swing his head from side to side, but, in the end, he still managed to shake his head in a negative gesture; no, he hadn't seen any civilians.

A lie. But Link wasn't sure what else he could express.

"Eh," James shrugged; he hadn't been getting his hopes up about it. "Well, we'll just have to pray for the best." Nodding, the sergeant managed to provide a ghost of a smile, the side of his mouth twitching just slightly upward, almost forming a smirk. "Good luck out there, agent."

The Hylian enlisted that had gathered in a circle to listen in dispersed, giving Link room to move further north into the forest and towards October City, each of them contemplating just what kind of a suicide mission he was on. Still, even as Link reached for his miniature handheld computer and keyed in a command that would allow Epona to lock onto his position and auto-drive its way over to him, there was an air of quiet about the Joint Intelligence agent that preceded even his usual silence and lack of vocal articulation, a refusal to speak or answer in the face of Sergeant James' question.

Even Durandara chose to remain silent.

* * *

**Exoria File #011  
Gerudo Military Intelligence Coordination Office**

The Second Continental War was the first major modern war that the Gerudo Union had fought in, and the astronomical costs of the strife highlighted the need to restructure their military forces. Among the suggested changes was the unification of military intelligence, which had previously been segregated by their respective army groups. This resulted in limited sharing and coordination of intelligence, and proved to be tremendously costly and inefficient. An executive order was issued from Garuda in 1452 a.s.r., albeit against some resistance, to unify the collection of all military intelligence through a single organ to better coordinate the war effort; despite worries and voiced concerns of provincial leaders that it strips away certain autonomous rights, the Military Intelligence Coordination Office was founded one year later in 1453 a.s.r. Operatives for the office, abbreviated to MICO, were distinguished by a unique set of robes they wore, white on the upper half of the body and red on the lower half, and were attached to different army groups to report back to headquarters in Garuda. MICO is strictly an intelligence-gathering office; as officers, all MICO operatives are required to possess a certain degree of combat training, but the office is otherwise uninvolved in the fielding of manpower for clandestine operations, which are often planned and supervised by MICO, but otherwise does not receive its operatives from the office. Although many operatives are often deployed to the frontlines to collect intelligence, MICO operatives are not considered to be frontline troops, and are not obligated to be an active combatant. Despite this, the office has distinguished itself as an extremely robust national military intelligence agency during wartime, serving to coordinate informational control and assessment on a national level. Emi is the fifth and current director of MICO.

* * *

Author's Note: TV Tropes calls it Infant Immortality, or the Sorting Algorithm of Mortality. In the modern-day media, one has the taboo of not killing children. They simply have a higher – if not guaranteed – chance of survival. Maybe it has to do with innocence, but children simply do not die in many movies and TV shows. Villains will stop short of killing a child, avalanches will miss them…and, should the villain actually _try_ to kill the child, or if the avalanche _won't_ miss, the child will be saved at the very last minute.

I do not work by the rules of the modern-day media. In real life, bullets don't distinguish between the guilty and the innocent, the young and the old. Children are just as likely to die as soldiers – if not _more_ likely – and the projectiles don't change paths just because a child has gotten in the way. Children do not have immortality in real life; if they did, we would not have thousands of child deaths every year in third-world nations, whether through famine or disease or war. I admit there's something satisfying about seeing a child saved; the young get to live on another day. And it's also completely expected; just like the trope Like You Would Really Do It, the Littlest Cancer Patient always survives, and the audience fully expects that.

You should not expect that with me. I may very well really do it. Anyone's a fair target, whether male or female, young or old. Because real life often does not provide one with a good deal of satisfaction; thus, not only do I not provide you with satisfaction of saving the girl, I also deprive you of the satisfaction of learning _who_ fired the shots and would effectively be doomed by a karmic death for killing a young innocent. Because life does not always have all the answers, life does not always make one happy, and there's a good chance I will have the shooter _not_ die – whether s/he be Hylian or Valentine – if only to make a point.

So, yes, anyone can die in this story. They might _not_, for certain plot purposes, but make no mistake: I _will_ have the courage to kill him or her when the chips are down.

Consider yourselves warned.

Now, back to business. As you may have noticed with the last handful of reviews, there had been an April Fool's Day joke that came a week later than it was supposed to. Obviously, it isn't here anymore, because I only kept it on for a few days. For those who missed it…too bad. You're going to have to try to keep up faster next time. I might repost it eventually when I finally finish this endeavor, but no promises. For posterity's sake, I also won't answer any questions regarding the April Fool's Day chapter; that would just feel…awkward. Kind of. That said, I admit this is a bittersweet feeling. Within two days, I had six reviews on my April Fool's Day chapter. While I admit I'm quite happy that I _am_ getting reviews, I do kind of wonder why the reviews never come in _this_ quickly when I'm writing a _serious_ chapter in which I've actually worked hard in. But, then again, I guess I should just draw a line and be satisfied with it. At least I'm getting favorable reviews, which are always a treat to read.

Now, to answer the _other_ reviews.

TheWatcherandReader: _You have a slight tendency towards word repetition, but nothing truly overt. The most obvious example would be a few chapters back where you used 'easily' thrice within the one sentence. Can't recall the number, but about the time Zelda reaches Garuda, I believe. _

_I noticed a few sentences that tended to go on longer than necessary, sometimes to the extreme. I suspect that, as you've eased into the flow of writing this particular story, such occurrences have dissipated fairly well. Of course, I could be missing things in the later chapters, but said sentences were only an issue in the first two or three chapters._

_In terms of style, I have no real objection to the way you write. I might offer one observation, however, I would suggest you take it with a pinch of salt, as you seem to avoid it remarkably well. It is best not to make the mistake of confusing loquacity for eloquence. There are times when simple is best, in terms of both lexicon and syntax. Perhaps a handful of paragraphs out of the multitude that you have written could be described as such, though, so again, don't take me too seriously there._

_In regards to the Anansi, you may wish to do some research on HESH rounds and the way in which tank armour may be organised. Wikipedia should suffice for such purposes._

_Admittedly, there is some small part of me that wishes you had named Durandara 'Navi' instead. Still, it works, and I am far more interested in the dynamics of Link and Durandara's relationship than the name._

_Impa is rather more clueless than I had hoped for, especially in regards to the Ocarina of Time version of her character. Although, as a matter of fact, I do see something of that incarnation in Leonore, which points to an interesting division of one staple character so as to fill two necessary roles._

_The Gerudo are something of a quandary to me, as the male:female ratio is not exactly conducive to high population numbers. I can only imagine that high birth rates and, possibly, advanced in vitro fertilisation tech have been the mitigating factors in the nation's survival. Cross-border relationships are a factor, but not really numerous enough to support the figures, I'd say._

_I'm rather tired, so that will be about as much as you'll get out of me this chapter. Good show 'n' keep on updating._

I do admit that I have a thing for long, flowery sentences that can be remarkably difficult to read at times, and there are certain phrases and words that I prefer to use above others that make my sentences seem…well, repetitive. Some of the time, though, it's just plain-out lazy refusal to proofread. I actually have a proofreader who checks my spelling and grammar for me, although she tends to be a few chapters behind, but I'm glad for having her nonetheless.

I actually have looked into HESH rounds; the problem with both HESH and HEAT rounds in regards to Anansi is that Anansi's armor is far too thick. Realistically, a plethora of HESH rounds _may_ cause enough concussive impacts to damage secondary systems, but HEAT rounds probably have a better chance – a _slightly_ better chance, I might emphasize – of actually damaging Anansi as is. The main problem thus far is that, while air strikes are likely to be the best option, Anansi's usually gone from the battlefront by the time Gerudo can scramble fighter jets, and their air force is not nearly strong enough to fly over Valentine territory and contest Valent's own elite air force. Of course, that still doesn't negate the fact that Anansi's armor is so ridiculously thick and reinforced that HEAT rounds, meant to penetrate enemy armor, is likely to simply bounce off or crush itself against Anansi's armor instead. I won't give away how Link manages to destroy Anansi yet, though.

I understand your reservations about Impa, but I should note that a lot of these characters specialize in very different fields. Impa is much more of a bureaucrat and statesman than she is an actual politician or strategist; these roles are filled more by Zelda and Leonore, who specialize more in politics and clandestine operations respectively, although you've probably noticed that, every once in a while, these character competencies overlap. Admittedly, the entire scenario, based on a war, puts Impa at a significant narrative disadvantage, as she's out of her comfort zone. I do feel, however, that she's fulfilling her role as the closest thing Zelda has to a current mother figure, and that the chance she may shine is not out of the picture or off the table.

As I've mentioned, genetic modification and cross-cultural breeding has been keeping the Gerudo population afloat – and then there's polygamy in many regions, which is not nationally illegal but discouraged in some of the more modern areas – but I will be the first to admit that I have no idea what a sustainable male-to-female ratio is; then, again, this _is_ a fictional world based on a fantasy franchise, so I'm not going to lose _too_ much sleep over this.

Otherwise, though, thank you very much for the long and comprehensive review; I hope to look forward to more of these from you soon.

Sam L.: _I found out about Exoria on the TvTropes wiki and I must say it hasn't disappointed yet! I'm definitely a fan, keep up the good work!_

_I've enjoyed how you've worked the classical Zelda thematic elements (fairies, the godesses, the triforce,etc.) into the story without losing your gritty modern feel, a feel which is really the primary draw of this story for me._

_Keep up the good work!_

This…is actually the first time I've heard people tell me that they found this story from TV Tropes, and not the other way around. Still, it's refreshing to hear; people are actually looking into this now, and that always makes authors happy.

Also, there are a few other reviews that have basically been asking questions about the nature of magic and how Valent has been able to achieve such technological prowess through the last two decades. Without giving away too much, I will note first that _Exoria_ is set a _long_ time from _Zelda_ canon; I won't give a specific date, but I'll assure you that it is, at the very least, one millennium. It's long enough a time for civilization to forget, to adapt, and to replace. Also, Valent _has_ focused single-mindedly on weapons and scientific research. Don't forget that, until the Soviet Union ran into financial troubles, it was some ways ahead of the United States technology-wise in the R&D field during the Cold War. Other aspects are going to have to remain a closely-guarded secret with me for now.

Next chapter is probably going to be relatively short. Just so you know. So please keep on reading and reviewing.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

Although technically not a metropolis, October City was still considered to be one of the largest cities in Hyrule. The area had been stretches of farmland through most of its history, but became a significant trading location amongst kingdoms and fiefdoms somewhere along the lines of the seventh century. Entrepreneurs hoping to take advantage of a location that suddenly became economically and strategically advantageous swiftly erected a town of significant size, an action that won the ire of farming families originally living here until they, too, were given a cut. Despite increasing prejudice between the city folk and the farming families that lived in extreme proximity in the same county, which reached a boiling point in the early fifteenth century, October City reflected its demographic very clearly just by appearance alone: The skyscrapers of downtown certainly stood out against the horizon, but the horizon itself was dominated mostly by stretching tracts of farmland and fields.

Link found it slightly amusing – as far as dark, morbid humor went – that, while October City itself seemed severely damaged, what with missing and charred chunks from the skyscrapers, even from the distance, the farmlands, which included everything from wheat fields to crops to vineyards, seemed largely untouched save a few craters.

Given the time constraints they were under, both Link and Durandara agreed that it was time to put the Hylian agent's disguise to good effect. They needed to get to October City, and fast, so if they were going to travel across enemy territory, they may as well do so while pretending they belonged there as opposed to cautiously making their way around. By the time they managed to get to the edge of the county of October City just before fifteen hundred hours, the two had encountered two helicopter flybys as the aircrafts passed overhead. The first time the three helicopters flew past had been a particularly jarring experience, especially when rear attack helicopter suddenly peeled off from formation and circle back towards Link…but he continued to ride Epona forward as if nothing was wrong, and – apparently deciding that the motorcycle-riding special forces lieutenant was indeed one of theirs – the Valentine helicopter flew away to fall back into formation several seconds afterwards. Thankfully, this test of courage was not repeated the second time, and the two helicopters simply flew right over him and did not stop.

Personally, Link was just thankful they hadn't actually run into any ground patrols that could've gotten a closer look or actually stopped him.

For now, though, he found himself perched on one of the small hills of October City, sitting atop Epona as he commanded a slightly elevated view that commanded a decent view of both the city and the fields and farmlands in between them. Most of it was tall grass, excellent conditions for attempting to sneak pass patrols…or sniping them if necessary.

"Radio traffic in the area is surprisingly sparse," Durandara commented in a thoughtful voice; her voice was distractedly slow. "It's concentrated mostly in the area around October City Airport, which I'm guessing they've converted into a makeshift military base. If I had to guess, we're looking either at a few small companies, a large company, or a small battalion. They don't seem to be using October City for a command-and-control center as much as they are using it as an outpost." Apparently deciding that Link might get the wrong ideas, the AI quickly added in a playfully-scornful voice, "That's no reason to let your guard down. If Anansi's really here, security's bound to be tight."

Aside from feeling mildly irritated – albeit also playfully so – at Durandara's seeming lack of confidence in his ability to take things seriously, Link agreed with the artificial intelligence. Assuming that Valent had set up shop in the airport, infiltrating it would be that much more difficult, considering that such facilities were designed with security in mind to start with. He certainly could attempt to sneak around, but, at this point, masquerading as the enemy would arguably be more practical. At least, as practical as things could get when one had to pretend to be an enemy no one had had contact with for seventeen years. The necessity for caution and prudence couldn't be overstated.

From his southerly positions, however, he also noticed movement in the fields below. A small handful of Valentine soldiers were slowly making their way across the farmlands hundreds of meters away at a leisurely pace, mostly across the stretches of tall crops and vineyards. They were likely to be token patrols; short of burning down the crops, there was no truly conventional way of ensuring that no one snuck through the tall foliage, something that Link considered doing very seriously. On the other hand, just because it was difficult to defend or patrol didn't mean patrols shouldn't be placed here. If anything, though, the Joint Intelligence agent guessed the soldiers were there more to intimidate than to actually catch anyone; resistance was probably not expected at this point, and the patrols were likely to be placed there mostly to discourage anyone – civilian or military – from sneaking in.

All things considered, the southern side of October City seemed less well-defended…and Link certainly was in no mood to ride around to another side of the county to see if he could infiltrate his way in from that direction. He was just going to have to find a way to break through from here. He was willing to take the risk in terms of his survivability, but not in terms of time, which was already ticking painfully away.

"I spot two separate two-man patrols," Durandara swiftly tallied the number of soldiers down below, then rectified that answer as another group appeared from behind a farmhouse some distance away. "Three now. I recommend you use your suppressed MSG10 to silently take them out before slipping in. Once they fail to radio in, Valentine forces inside October City will probably send search teams to look for the missing patrols. They'll be difficult to find in the foliage, though, so that will buy us some time. Security will likely be heightened inside October City, but there won't be as many men enforcing it. We will have until the search teams find the bodies to confirm the location of Anansi before either sabotaging it or getting out. We'll have to get out before the bodies are actually found, or they'll make life difficult for us."

There was also an unspoken, understood part in Durandara's suggestion; taking the guards out would also force them to hurry with the mission. They were running extraordinarily short on time as was. If Link had the time to worry remarkably about trying to sneak past enemy forces or patrols looking out for him, they might as well give up already. Even if Anansi was remarkably conventional, the agent doubted it really needed more than half a day to refit and refuel.

"Get into position but hold your fire. I want to determine how frequently they do radio checks."

Dismounting Epona and slinging the sniper rifle from around his shoulder in the same motion, Link swiftly ducked further into the grass he was on, moving forward by several meters before being satisfied with a certain spot on the hill where he could go prone on his stomach and command a vantage point that allowed him to watch all three patrols at once. He agreed to hold fire, and considered himself lucky that, just as he began to survey the fields with his scope, the patrols seemed to speaking on their radios, undoubtedly to report in. That was likely to save some minutes in terms of figuring out how often they gave local command a situation report. But the minutes slowly ticked by after that call, and, by seven minutes, Link was slowly growing impatient; there was a fine line that determined whether or not it was worth the effort to just stay here and figure out how to flawlessly pass the first hurdle when their goal was potentially moving further and further away.

"Be patient," Durandara, undoubtedly sensing Link's urge to hurry, hissed. "I'm also trying to gather other data while we're waiting. Stand by." It took her several seconds to connect to certain databases once more before she remarked, "Meteorological reports accessed. Gathering data on local weather conditions, wind speed, humidity, and…matching them with primary personal sensors. Ninety-four point six percent match in data. Factoring in gravitational factors and downloading specifications on subsonic rounds for the MSG10…" Her voice trailed off slowly until, suddenly, the AI triumphantly quipped, "Okay. I have a makeshift firing solution. We'll put that into use in just a bit."

It took the slightest of moments for Link to realize that Durandara was actually being his spotter. Somehow, he found this strangely amusing, if not outright weird; it wasn't as if he hadn't worked with a spotter before, although he generally preferred to shoot alone without one, but having a spotter that wasn't technically even _there_ was…an interesting experience, to say the least. He shrugged that thought off, he was going to have to get used to it.

"Looks like one check around every ten minutes," came the AI's murmur as both she and the Joint Intelligence agent watched the patrols began to report in again. It had been a long time in waiting, but the result was still fairly good news for Link. "Plenty of time for us to sneak in before they deploy search teams. I've also done repeated spectroimagery screenings of October City from where we are; it doesn't look like there's any forces within the city that have a line of sight towards the patrols, so we shouldn't have to worry too much about other Valentine soldiers watching patrols suddenly disappear into the farmlands. I'm uploading targeting data into your scope. Just follow the icons I'm lighting up your scope with and pull the trigger when you do."

Link wasn't entirely sure what Durandara meant by that until he actually looked through the scope of his MSG10, and realized that she had effectively turned the lens into a digital display. Aside from being utilized as a normal scope, the lens was also illuminated with tiny holograms that Durandara was forming, giving him various on-lens data that included distance to target, wind speed, humidity, temperature, bullet travel time, and a few other assorted items Link decided he probably wasn't going to need. Most glaring, however, were a few arrows on the scope; he followed one of the arrows, swinging the sniper rifles in its direction, before realizing that there was a moving circle on the lens that floated beside each soldier's head, at least from the perspective of the scope. It was then that Link understood that Durandara had already ran the calculations for accurate marksman shooting, and was utilizing the data to inform Link where to point the rifle and fire to ensure that the bullet would eventually end up in the head of an unfortunate Valentine soldier several hundred meters away.

It was convenient, and that was possibly why Link frowned. He had trained enough with sniper rifles to know that sniping wasn't just about lining up the scope's crosshairs with the target. The bullet, too, had its own travel time, mostly just less than a second, and aiming directly at a target while it was moving was just going to ensure that the bullet fired would pass through where the target once _was_; this was especially evident with subsonic rounds, which traveled slower than "normal" bullets to ensure that the bullet didn't generate a very loud cracking sound when it crossed the sound barrier. Other factors also came in when sniping at hundreds of meters away, including gravity, humidity, and wind speed and direction, all of which would affect the trajectory and speed of the fired bullet.

That Durandara had already taken all this into account was certainly useful, but Link preferred to think that he was good enough a sniper to compensate for this even without the help, which Link honestly wasn't sure whether or not it was reliable. The AI did not miss the frown, however, and sounded appropriately annoyed, if not scolding. "Stop being cocky!" Durandara snapped impatiently. "We can't afford to give these patrols any chance to call for help or radio in, or we lose our chance to sneak in quietly. There's no room for error in this. Just align the crosshairs with my icons and fire!"

Grimacing, Link decided the AI was right. Watching the two soldiers on the far left – the western side – continue to stroll their way through the tall fields through the scope, he carefully aligned his crosshairs with the icon Durandara had placed there, which hovered just a bit in front of his current walking path and slightly above head level. Link took a deep breath, stabilizing his sniper rifle, and paid close attention to his heartbeat, taking note of its tempo…and, between beats, where his heart was less likely to throw off his aim by pumping blood through his body, pulled the trigger.

Durandara had placed the soldier at about three hundred meters away. When Link fired the bullet, he could barely hear the report of the gunshot, not when the clack of the sniper's bolt was louder, and the distinctive crack of the bullet going supersonic was absent as well. Almost exactly one full second later, the bullet finally completed its intersection with the soldier's walking path and violently tore through the Valentine patrolman's head, creating quite the wet, red splash around that temporarily obscured his head. When the bloody explosion disappeared, so did the soldier, his body falling to the ground and hidden within the tall grass.

The now-deceased soldier's partner had been walking at fifteen meters away, and did not hear his partner's death, so Link easily adjusted his aim, stabilized his sniper, and pulled the trigger once more; a second later, his northwestern side was clear of any patrols…at least, any that were alive.

Link swiveled his MSG10 around – despite Durandara having effectively turned the scope into a HUD, he didn't follow the arrows she placed there, opting instead to keep both eyes open, one on the scope and the other on the fields – to locate and take aim that the hostiles that were directly to his north. Unlike the previous two soldiers he had taken down, this duo were only three meters away from each other; Link would have to shoot quickly to ensure that the second man to go down wouldn't have enough time to react.

Durandara, for her part, noted that the two men seemed to be walking on intersecting paths that may very well put them in a convenient formation. "Their current trajectories might get them to line up enough so we can take them both out instantly with one shot," she noted. "Give them a moment."

Watching the two Valentine soldiers strolling through the fields, Link saw what Durandara was talking about; one soldier was ahead of the other, but the gap between them – at least, from the sniper's point of view – was narrowing, which could potentially translate into a double-kill if he could fire a shot into one soldier's head, through it, and into the second man's head. It would also lower the chances of the second soldier calling for help once the first goes down.

"I'm uploading an icon based real-time estimates of where they'll line up; it'll move around a bit as I recalculate their movements, so stay closely on it. ETA, thirteen seconds."

True to her word, an icon appeared on the scope, seemingly floating right in front of both soldiers, the spot where Durandara estimated both soldiers would end up crossing paths and lining up for a single shot. Despite it wavering just a bit every now and then, the movements were miniscule and very much within Link's capabilities to track a moving target with a sniper rifle.

"Steady now," Durandara was still keep track of the countdown. "Six seconds."

Again, Link held his breath, steadied his aim, began keeping track of his heartbeat. The crosshairs hovered right on the icon Durandara had put on the lens as Link watched the two Valentine soldiers approach each other, one almost obscuring the other as their paths intersected. He began to count off the seconds, forcing himself to be calm. Five, four, three, two…

"Hold fire, hold fire," Durandara suddenly hissed, and Link's finger instantly slipped away from the trigger to prevent him from firing the weapon by accident. "One of them has stopped."

The AI was right; the soldier to the rear had suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking lazily around – his moving lips indicated that he was speaking to his partner – even as the soldier in front marched idly ahead while looking back at his comrade. The gap between the two was gone, but both patrolmen were not properly lined up for Link to guarantee a lethal shot with a single bullet.

Several seconds were given in allowance before Durandara finally decided that it was unlikely that the two patrolmen were going to line up for a single shot anytime soon. "Okay, scrap that plan," she muttered, updating the targeting icons on the MSG10 scope to optimize shots for each targets individually as opposed to both targets at once. "We'll take them out separately like before. Just wait until the one in front turns back around…" The AI's voice trailed off slowly, both sniper and spotter watching the two Valentine soldiers speaking to each other for several seconds before the man in front finally turned around and began to march ahead once more, taking his eyes off the man in the rear. "_Now_."

Again came the muted crack of the sniper rifle that accumulated in a bullet that whizzed right by the first soldier and into the head of the second. The last patrolman, however, was close enough to his partner to hear him fall into the field, causing him to turn around in confusion before realizing that the second soldier had disappeared. Despite not being able to see the man's face, however, Link surmised by the Valentine soldier's body language that he seemed to show more confusion than actual alarm, however, something the Hylian agent was happy to take advantage of. The patrolman's efforts to figure out why the fields behind him were suddenly empty was abruptly cut short as a subsonic sniper round tore through his head, and he, too, crumpled and disappeared into the fields.

"Okay," sounding somewhat satisfied, Durandara spoke while Link began to swivel his sniper rifle towards the direction of the remaining two men in the field even as he reloaded the five-round magazine to the MSG10; there was still one round left in the current magazine, but he wanted to pull off two shots in quick succession as opposed to having to reload between shots…just in case anything went wrong. "Last patrol is two hundred meters to the east. The wind's starting to get choppy, so there's going to be a decrease in just how accurate my predictions are. The bullet's flight path is too exposed to sudden winds, so we'll just have to hope we're lucky."

Nodding barely perceptibly, Link focused this time more on his instincts as he took aim, relied on his own training to determine how he was supposed to shoot. Watching the tips of the swaying tall grass, he saw what Durandara meant by the wind getting "choppy"; the grass was saying all over the place in different areas, small drafts going off in different directions across the field, including the three hundred meters between Link and his target. It meant that the wind could tumble his bullet around throughout its flight path, something that he would generally be less worried about had his bullet _not_ been subsonic, and had the distance been _less_ than three hundred meters.

He patiently took aim and waited, watching the grass carefully, waiting for the one moment where the winds would seem to temporarily die down to minimize the chances his bullet would be blown slightly off course. When the fields stopped swaying violently, Link – noting that the area he was aiming at through instinct was also conveniently overlapping with the icon Durandara had placed in terms of forecasting where the soldier was going to be in the second it took for the bullet to reach him – fired, the sniper jolting once as the recoil slammed the weapon against Link's shoulder. Again, it only took a second for the bullet to tear through the head of the patrolman violent before the fields took him from Link's line of sight.

His partner, however, seemingly heard the sound – either of the victim's head exploding or him falling into the fields – and turned around with considerable alarm…enough time for Link to take aim at him too, taking a deep breath before firing.

A split second after the bullet left the barrel of the MSG10, the wind started to stir again, the fields swaying in the wind…before the intervention of a single bullet upset that pattern, slashing a path through the fields and snapping them away…missing the lone, remaining Valentine soldier by only a measure of centimeters.

The patrolman needed no better cue for turning around and running.

Link scowled; the only consolation he had in missing the soldier and alerting him to the presence of a sniper was that the young man was panicking, and did not duck into the fields or radio for help, actions that would make the Hylian's attempt at taking him down that much more difficult. That didn't mean he wouldn't remember to do so in a moment or two, though. "Keep firing!" Durandara snapped. "I'm going to try to overload all Valentine channels with silent pings. Do _not_ let him radio for help!"

As if Link needed extra encouragement for that. There was no time for him to attempt to align his aim with the local winds, he was just going to have to make very quick guesses and fire rapidly. There were three rounds left in the magazine, so Link quickly squeezed them off in quick succession. The first shot was blown too far left, but when Link adjusted the angle for the second shot, it went too far above, shooting right above the target's head. The third shot was fired just as Link began to switch to a different magazine, but that turned out to be unnecessary; there was a small explosion of blood from where the last round struck the Valentine soldier, and he fell into the fields, obscured by the tall grass.

Link didn't quite see _where_ the bullet had struck the man, and wasn't sure if it was a clean, lethal shot…if the man was still alive or if he was attempting to use the radio, so he reloaded anyways, and fired another five bullets into the general area of where the man fell, now that the agent couldn't actually see him. Expending that magazine, he reloaded once more, keeping his MSG10 aimed at the same location while carefully watching for any signs of movement.

"No noticeable increase in Valentine radio traffic," Durandara finally remarked several long moments later in what sounded like a relieved sigh. "I think we're in the clear. We have seven minutes to get into October City before the search teams arrive. Let's go."

Although he nodded, Link still waited an extra ten seconds to ensure that nothing was moving down there before he got up from his sniping position, slinging the rifle around his shoulder once more as he did so, and returned to Epona. The path down to October City was clear now, and he could only hope that the six bodies in the field were going to be take long enough a time to find.

* * *

It was to Link's relief that, for the most part, October City was largely deserted, in both senses of the term. On one hand, there was the direct relief that there were not enough Valentine forces stationed in the area to station guards and patrols across the entire city, so, for the most part, Link's ride across the city went unimpeded. He occasionally took the chance to see just how effective his disguise was by riding within sight of a few stray Valentine patrols – there actually weren't that many, and Link decided the forces in the area treated October City as a minimally-defended rear outpost safely away from the main lines of resistance – and even ventured just meters to individual, isolated guards that could be taken out quickly and quietly should the need necessitate it. It was well and good that, in all instances, aside from the occasional surprise of him suddenly appearing in the area, none of the soldiers reacted hostilely, seemingly accepting him as one of theirs.

Still, it wasn't something Link wanted to abuse, and he kept those encounters to a minimum; his disguise was shared by the many Valentine special forces officers now stretched across the continent, but his face certainly wasn't. He didn't intend to give the soldiers anything to remember him by that would distinguish him from any other special forces officer in Valentine service.

Even as he neared the airport – traffic signs indicated he still had another two kilometers ago – Link rode right by a small convoy of four humvees, what effectively seemed to be a squad-sized patrol, driving in the opposite direction. It was only a minute or two past the expected ten since he managed to take out the initial southern patrols. Valent took potential security breaches quite seriously, but this only meant Link had about a dozen less men to worry about in an already minimally-defended area…at least, until they found the bodies. Hopefully, that would take a while.

"It would be better if we can keep my existence known to as few people as possible," came Durandara's whisper into Link's ear as Epona continued its way to the airport. "I'm not going to use holograms in front of Valentine forces unless absolutely necessary, but I'll provide other means of support regardless."

That was fine regardless; Link had not exactly envisioned this operation to be something that would exactly require holograms or other kind of visual sensory assistance. Although it had never exactly happened in wartime, he _had_ undertaken similar deep cover assignments without fancy technology such as artificial intelligence, and he was certain this would not make _that_ much of a difference even if he did not have the assistance of holograms. Besides, Durandara was still there to whisper information into his ear, but Link was also conscious of the fact that it may not be a sound idea to rely too much on AI; it was less about his trust in her than it was the implicit knowledge that his own skills may deteriorate if he relied too much on external support that may not be there in the future. He had to keep his instincts finely honed and ensure he was on top of his game.

Not that he was aversive to utilizing Durandara to the fullest extent; caution and overreliance aside, Link _was_ pragmatic, and knew it was always in his best interest to make use of every tool at his disposal at maximum efficiency.

Although much of October City had seen much destruction, the airport was actually surprisingly intact. The city itself had seen some of the greatest damage Link had ever seen in his life; entire chunks of skyscrapers had detached itself messily and ended up as debris on the streets, practically every street-level window and vehicles had been shattered or destroyed, pillars of smoke rose into the sky from burning fires, bullet holes from intense fighting could be seen everywhere, asphalt and concrete was torn messily open as streets and sidewalks looked akin to torn paper, and metallic meshes protruded messily from both the ground and the buildings around them. In many respects, the entire scenario looked very much like Fort Regner, but on a far larger scale. On the other hand, aside from shattered windows here and there and a handful of burning wreckages here and there, Link noted as he pulled up the ramp leading to the airport terminals that most of the airport facilities and infrastructures were still intact, quite unlike what he and Princess Zelda had run into at Sirsa Military Airbase a week ago. At some point, Hylian forces in the area must've realized that a civilian airport wasn't necessarily worth protecting, nor was it a sound location for a strategic defense, and decided to abandon it. Now, though, it seemed to be the center of enemy command and control in the area.

Sneaking up to the airport was a relatively easy affair, which effectively translated to Link abandoning all pretenses of stealth as he drove right by a security checkpoint – which also functioned as a civilian toll booth prior to entering the arrival and departure sections of the airport – reinforced with sandbags and lightly guarded only by two well-armed infantrymen. When he actually rode up the ramp to the entrance of the arrival wing of the airport, he found that the entire stretch of road was unguarded and occupied by only one humvee, and the automatic doors to the airport had been cracked and pried open. If anything, this _could_ be an indicator towards the state of security of the airport at this time…a good sign, if anything else, but still no reason to become complacent.

Dismounting Epona and leaving it where it was at the front entrance, Link strode into the airport, relieved at the fact that the motorcycle had no markings of any kind that would hint of its actual nation of origin. Admittedly, he was not very concerned; accessing Epona required a key or password, both of which only Link had, so it wasn't as if any curious Valentine soldiers who wanted to take a look at a motorcycle they've never seen before could access the computers on Epona and make their own guesses. Besides, he kept it neatly parked right behind the Valentine humvee, making it look like it was an actual military vehicle that belonged there as opposed to just another civilian transport the soldiers could take and ride off with. If anything else, though, Link could always toggle Epona's auto-ride function when he needed a quick getaway. It worried him a bit that he was leaving the motorcycle behind and unattended to, but he knew that the chances were going his way.

Stepping through the now-defunct automatic doors of the arrival wing, Link quietly noted that security here was indeed light; he only spotted a two-man patrol making lazy rounds through the terminal halls, which was about fifty meters away when he actually stepped into the terminal. He tensed as the patrol saw him and spoke to each other in a suspiciously conspiring manner, as if they noticed something wrong with Link; it didn't help that he couldn't actually lip-read in Valentine. Thankfully, Durandara could. "No worries," she assured him. "They're just expressing surprise that there's someone from Valentine special forces here. I think you're in the clear." That generated some relief for the agent, who decided that his disguise was actually holding up much better than he would've originally thought. "I'm picking up increased acoustic activity beyond the security checkpoint deeper in the airport. They're probably using the inner terminals as their command and control outpost. Recommend you move up the escalator and deeper in."

Link had no problems with that…except that the closest escalators by far were in the direction of the two-man patrol. Still, he didn't have a choice in the matter; the two Valentine soldiers were moving in his direction, and it wasn't as if he could turn the other way to walk to the escalator further away without attracting suspicion. Deciding that his odds of being discovered as a Hylian infiltrator would be lower if he just simply passed them by, Link suppressed a sigh as he turned left, walking as normally as he could towards his access to the second floor mezzanine that would lead to the security checkpoints upstairs. Thankfully, as he passed the patrol, the two only offered salutes in a somewhat awkward manner, as if unsure how they were supposed to react to a special forces lieutenant. This was good; discomfort on part of the enlisted made it less likely that they would scrutinize Link, making the agent's job that much easier.

Link merely returned the salute, ascended the escalator – it was either broken or had no power, for it was not moving – and moved through the security checkpoint that otherwise would've been manned by aviation security agents standing by metal dictators and baggage x-ray machines.

"Ah-hah," Durandara suddenly proclaimed without warning, causing Link to flinch in surprise; the AI did not seem to feel guilty in the least about startling the agent, and the Hylian's only source of comfort was that there was, thankfully, no one nearby to actually see him do that. "Clever. There's a Valentine communications sub-channel hidden in all this radio traffic. It seems they've been masking it very well to make it hard to detect. Lots of heavy electronic security, so it's going to take me just a few moments to decrypt. Hang tight; I'll get back to you when I find something important."

The existence of an obscured sub-channel indicated several possibilities to Link from a military and clandestine viewpoint, but, in general, it meant only one thing: The narrowband communications channel was designed to be a secret, encrypted and off-limits to most Valentine radiomen, and deliberately hidden from any potential electronic warfare packages. This was the kind of channel in which secret communiqués and black operations were hosted on…which could only mean that their chances of finding Anansi here were getting better. If that wasn't the case, it also meant that there could be something worth checking out.

It was as Link moved past the security checkpoints and into the actual terminals leading to the airport gates that he saw the extent of Valentine operations in the area: There was a small fleet of military cargo aircraft parked throughout the runways of October City International Airport, with a small number of work crews – Link counted only slightly more than half a dozen men managing planes that numbered at least a dozen – managed the unloading of what was likely to be supplies, fuel, and ammunition on the tarmac. This confirmed Sergeant James' theory that the entire area had been repurposed into a Valentine resupply depot, converting a civilian airport for martial purposes.

Activity was also greater within the airport. The armed soldiers who marched to and fro didn't seem to be patrols as much as they were part of the management of the supply base, but each extra pair of eyes effectively meant that there was a greater chance of Link being discovered for who he really was. Generally attempting to wander off into less populated areas, the Hylian nevertheless looked out the airport windows, searching for any sign of Anansi out on the runways. Its absence – at least from his points of view – encouraged him to figure that the superweapon was most likely being kept in the hangars…if it was here at all.

Noting that Anansi still had not been located, Durandara decided to chime in with some advice of her own. "I haven't cracked the sub-channel yet, but general Valentine communications show that they've converted a security office in Terminal B into a temporary armory. If Anansi is here and we're going to sabotage it, we're going to need some explosives, and this is where we're going to get it. Even if Anansi isn't here, the explosives will still come in handy later. The armory is about one hundred and eighty meters to the east." Then, watching Link turn several times in an effort to discern – perhaps via sunlight – which direction was east, swiftly added, "Um, right behind you, Link."

The path down Terminal B brought Link on a path that passed through a great deal of duty-free shops. It was as he walked down these corridors that Link noticed that although many of these shops had been looted of most of its wares – an inevitability when it came to soldiers on the battlefield, for spoils of war were as certain as casualties – the damage was, by all means, minimal. Although many of the products were missing and displaced, by no means did the shops look as if they had been ransacked or as if some whirlwind had torn through it. On the contrary, with very few exceptions, most of the duty-free shops simply looked as if they were short on wares, with many of the products still neatly on the shelves, little litter on the ground, and practically no signs of damage. In fact, as Link passed by one shop, he spotted a small group of soldiers playing cards by the cashier's counter; as one of them finished a bag of potato chips, he leaned over and tossed it into a nearby garbage can. The agent had to concede that, although lawless behavior was not alien to any occupying force, the Valentine military was actually doing a fairly neat job at the looting business, considering that it didn't seem as of the October City International Airport was a site of a ferocious battle.

As he walked for what he suspected to be a hundred and sixty meters, Link noted that there was an employee entrance on the left that was clearly marked with a sign indicating security; the office itself, which had been reconverted into an armory, was probably twenty meters beyond that door. Perhaps "reconverted" was not necessarily the right word, however, considering that most airport security offices were already armories in their own right, with its own security forces to handle any potential lethal threats on their facilities. It was as he began to make it to the door, however, that Durandara quickly chimed in once more. "Link, I'm in," the artificial intelligence announced with a bit of a triumphant tone in her whisper…before, three seconds later, her voice dropped an octave and turned chillingly cold. "…Anansi is _here_."

For all that it mattered, Link was fairly glad in hindsight that no one was nearby when Durandara uttered those three words, for the effect of her sentence suddenly caused him to practically freeze midstride, something that undoubtedly would've earned him many unwelcome stares. It took Link another split-second to completely process what the AI had just told him: Anansi was _here_. While Link had kept his anticipation and anxiety bottled up both for the sake of his calmness and in an attempt not to get his hopes up, those three words effectively uncorked the bottle, allowing for a torrent of emotions to briefly catch up to Link. Surprise that their objective was still here. Excitement that they were coming close to their objective. Anxiety upon the responsibility that now heavily set itself upon his shoulders. Fear at what would happen should he fail.

For just the barest of moments, the Joint Intelligence agent was actually not entirely sure how he was supposed to react, and was stuck there in limbo.

"They have it stashed in hangar twelve," continued Durandara, her voice sounding both distracted and urgent. "Anansi has already completed resupplying operations; they're just refueling now. You need to hurry!"

That snapped Link back to reality as he took in this new information. So, as he thought, Anansi was hidden away in one of the hangars, and was likely only an hour – if not minutes – away from its next sortie. With no further hesitation and with resolute calmness, Link pushed his way through the doors of the employee area, moving on as he marched on towards the office-turned-armory. Now, more than ever, he needed to get a move on.

The security office was located at the end of a right turn, separated from the rest of the hallway by a pane of bulletproof glass and a door that was now left open, manned by one Valentine sergeant who sat at the desk with several documents and a laptop computer. As soon as Link stepped within view, the sergeant immediately stood and saluted in the presence of a superior officer; the disguised agent calmly returned the salute, his gaze peering instead beyond the sergeant and towards the black cage mesh behind him and the weapon racks beyond that was, apparently, filled to the brim with military-grade weapons. Valent certainly did a good job at keeping inventory on and stashing their equipment.

The sergeant, following Link's gaze, figured that here was a special forces lieutenant wanting some more weapons to blow things up with. "Sir," the sergeant dropped back to his seat, slid a clipboard over with what looked like a grid with various signatures on it. "I just need you to sign here." Taking a quick look, Link saw that each line of the grid had the name, rank, service number, and signature of presumably every individual who had come to the armory to check out weapons. Chances were that it was just formal procedures, and the sergeant wouldn't actually double-check the information to see if it was valid, but even as Link picked up a pen in an attempt to fabricate a name and service number, he told himself to be careful and watch what the sergeant's next moves would be.

"That computer," came a sudden whispered to Link's ear, which got the agent to look at the laptop before the sergeant. "Plug me into it. I'll see if I can download anything useful from it."

It wasn't as if Link could plug the flash disk into the laptop without the sergeant noticing. It would seem that the faux lieutenant would have to take out the sergeant after all. Link slid the clipboard back to the sergeant as he began to move towards the armory, noting that the sergeant was also staring at Link in a rather troubled manner, but, after a moment, decided to say nothing as he turned back to his laptop, typing into the computer as he looked at the data the special forces lieutenant had just written down. So they _did_ double-check data to ensure it added up. Chances were that the sergeant wanted to say that it was standard procedure for those who wanted to procure weapons to wait until the signature checked out, but decided against having to remind a superior officer of that, especially towards one from Valentine special forces.

Link waited just seconds long enough to ensure that the Valentine enlisted was busy typing the information into the laptop before his gloved right hand shot down around the man's neck, striking at the throat harshly to traumatize it, minimize his ability to call for help, before Link's arm snaked around and held the sergeant's neck in a chokehold, the elbow edging the man's jaw shut in the same movement. As the sergeant struggled, attempted to claw upwards in panic at the realization that he was being attacked, Link's left hand pressed the barrel of his gunsword in handgun mode against the sergeant's shoulder in a spot where he knew the body armor didn't cover, fired twice to inject two bullets into the man's heart. The victim convulsed twice, tensed…then slowly went limp in the agent's arm, dead.

"Messy." For all the seriousness of the situation, Durandara couldn't help but make a witty remark in what was almost a snazzy, if not jokingly reprimanding manner. "Be sure to hide the body."

Link didn't need to be told that. He quickly reached into one of his pockets, fishing out the flash disc carrying Durandara and plugging it into the laptop computer before scooping up the dead sergeant's body and shoving it into a nearby locker. Finding a nearby towel, he stuffed it against the bottom of the locker before closing the door shut, hoping that the towel would help absorb some blood and prevent the red liquid from oozing out from the bottom that could alarming anyone passing by to the presence of a dead body slowly bleeding out from two gunshot wounds.

"Okay, I'm in," announced the artificial intelligence as Link returned to the laptop; apparently, hacking into computers did not hinder her ability to speak to her agent at all. Several seconds of silence later, she thoughtfully – if not cheerfully – murmured, "Ah-hah. Lots of intelligence on Valentine operating protocols in this computer. This is bound to be useful in the future. Give me a few seconds to download all of it. Go on and start packing the explosives we need. Take as much as you can without attracting too much attention."

Moving into the armory through the black cage mesh per se, Link found himself in the presence of a great deal of Valentine infantry hardware. Adorning the walls and stacked onto crates were all sorts of guns, ammunition, explosives, and tools needed to supply a company. He recognized most of the weapons stocked here, them being models more than two decades old, but some of them seemed to be newer equipment that had been developed within the last eighteen years, equipment that Hylian intelligence had nothing on, ranging from new assault rifles to handguns to rocket launchers. Link contemplated taking some of these back as samples for military intelligence to study, but decided against it; he had yet to see any special forces infantry actually carry weapons beyond a gunsword, and was admittedly worried that carrying equipment he wasn't supposed to may blow his cover. Rather, he diligently picked up a nearby duffel bag and began stuffing it with plastic explosives. Despite being designed and shaped differently, Link knew that these bombs worked in the same way: One molded the actual explosive into any shape they wanted like clay before arming the explosive, then triggering it via timed or remote detonators. Plastic explosives were remarkably powerful – just a few kilograms of the substance could blast apart tanks and bunkers – but Link reminded himself that this was Anansi he had to sabotage, and stashed as many of the bombs as he could.

"Wait," his AI's voice suddenly whispered as Link prepared to turn and leave the armory after collecting all the plastic explosives he could stuff into the duffel bag now slung around his shoulder. "Turn left, take a look at those guns on the walls."

Obeying the order, Link found himself looking a rack of firearms that he had earlier dismissed as pistols upon a first precursory glance, but now that he was actually looking at the weapon closely, he realized that _this_ particular piece of equipment only shared the rough shape compared to an actual handgun. In fact, there was a circular coil attached to the enlarged barrel of the firearm, and the end of the barrel expanded into what looked very much like a miniature rocket. In fact, the entire weapon as a whole resembled a miniature harpoon gun.

On Durandara's part, she managed to detect slight magnetic fields surrounding the guns, each handgun producing its own miniature magnetic field that she suspected would be amplified once electricity began to run from the wire wrapped around the circular coil and to the rear end of the "harpoon". In fact, she already had a very good idea as to what this strange weapon was. "A magnetic grappling gun," remarked a somewhat incredulous Durandara as she studied the firearm from where she was connected to the Valentine laptop at the entrance of the armory. "Valentine R&D has some really strange ideas about what's a good idea for a weapon." She paused, then, thinking the situation over, conceded, "Then, again, we _are_ talking about the same people who created the gunsword." Link imagined that, had Durandara taken up her holographic form at the moment, she would've sighed and shrugged. "Take one of them. Chances are that Anansi's parked in a way where we can easily reach the cockpit, but in case it isn't, I don't want us to be stuck below and looking up at it like idiots because we can't get on it."

Although Link was somewhat tempted to point out that he didn't actually know how to _use_ one of these "magnetic grappling guns" – which, by name, he could only guess were weapons that fired harpoons to a higher elevation then used the coil and wire to pull him up to where the harpoon was affixed – he decided to hold his tongue on the matter. He was just going to have to figure it out and improvise…a theme that was likely going to reoccur on this mission, if he managed to survive that long. If he _wanted_ to survive that long. Plucking one of the handguns from off the rack, Link clipped it to his belt before finally moving out of the armory, ensuring that Durandara had all the information she needed from the laptop she was plugged into before yanking the flash drive from the socket and shoving it back into one of his pockets.

Even then, the AI couldn't help but tease Link a bit. "Miss me?" she cooed. Link decided he wasn't going to give _that_ question any kind of response.

Following the instructions provided from the digital whispers in his ear, the Hylian agent swiftly made his way around the staff areas that managed to get him out of the airport interiors and out on the runways of the airport. Keying the command to remotely summon Epona, Link found himself quite pleased once again as the sleek black motorcycle rolled up to where he was, riderless; this function was turning out to be exceedingly convenient. The presence of the motorcycle meant that getting to hangar twelve – practically on the other side of the entire web of runways in this airport – was only going to take a matter of minutes. He needed the time; for a covert operation, Link knew that he was already leaving quite a trail in the interests of speed.

Time, however, didn't seem to be on their side. "Bad news, Link," Durandara warned him, actually sounding somewhat worried as she spoke loudly enough to be heard above the soft growl of Epona's engines and the wind battering Link's face as he swiftly rode across the runways of October City International Airport. "The search parties found the bodies and are reporting in. I'm going to piggyback off their channels and simulate a drill I pulled off that armory computer to confuse everyone else as to whether or not this is serious, but it's only a matter of time before security is significantly heightened. We need to get moving."

He didn't need to be told such. Still, despite the overwhelming need to hurry, Link spotted something as he passed hangar ten that warranted a sudden stop as he suddenly pulled Epona up by the gap between hangars ten and eleven, noting that there was actually what seemed to be a fuel truck parked there. Dismounting his motorcycle and moving next to the vehicle's fuel tank, Link rapped the metallic storage contained twice with his gloved hand; Durandara, in a moment of enlightenment, instantly realized what Link was trying to do. "Audio analysis…indicates positive," she confirmed after spending a few seconds processing the audio recording of Link's tapping of the fuel tank and its corresponding echoes. "There's a substantial amount of combustible fuel in there." Her tone turned playfully coy. "Since when did you become so clever?"

Technically, it wasn't necessarily clever as much as it was Link realizing that he was badly in need of a Plan B in case everything went south. If that was going to give him some credit from Durandara, though, then all the better. Better yet, there were still hoses connecting the fuel tank to the pumps; if the pumps had fuel in them as well, which was likely to run throughout the hangars, then they were going to have one hell of an explosion. Sticking one of the plastic explosives right underneath the truck, Link armed the device before moving on, the deadly substance now preparing to detonate at a moment's notice as soon as the agent keyed the trigger that would send the narrowband signal to generate a micro-explosion setting off the entire plastic explosive into a massive cloud of expanding gas.

Emerging from the gap between hangars ten and eleven, Link noted as he mounted Epona that there were suddenly a number of vehicles that were driving across the runway, all of them loaded with soldiers and seemingly headed for the other side of the airport, away from where he was. That was mightily convenient…which he knew was, in fact, the result of Durandara having been able to hijack the Valentine communications channels and fool the defending forces here into a drill, buying them just a bit of time. They were probably headed for some area that was conveniently out-of-sight and out-of-the-way. But that was just a bit, and the AI saw it fit to remind her agent of that. "Don't get too comfortable. They'll be back to their posts with greater vigilance once local Valentine command gets them back in order. Get a move on, Link."

That reminder went without saying. Link found himself standing before hangar twelve just seconds later on the other side – he found it prudent to park Epona on the rear entrance out of view of the main airport and on the other side of the runways, giving him a better chance at a getaway if necessary. With one hand hovering about the handle of his gunsword in its holster, Link tested the back door to the hangar; it was unlocked. With slight hesitation and much caution, he pushed the door open and made his way in.

The first thing that caught the agent's attention was not the fact that there was a team of six Valentine engineers working in the area, who barely gave Link anything more than a precursory glance before deciding that the sight of a special forces lieutenant here was nothing too much out of the ordinary. It was certainly not the fact that there were a lot of different pieces of equipment here, including cranes, fuel pumps, and what looked like entire computer consoles that the engineers busied themselves over. It wasn't even the presence of a great deal of ordinance in the hangar, with what seemed like crates of point-fifty anti-material rounds for chain guns and missiles to the side.

It was Anansi. It was the second time that Link had ever seen the weapon before him, but it was the first time he had actually appreciated its true size. When he had first encountered it in Hyrule City, it had already seemed massive, yes, but the scale of the weapon had been slightly diminished by the fact that he was, in fact, on an elevated highway, and the adrenaline rush – coupled with the necessity to flee as quickly as possible with Princess Zelda riding with him – that distorted his senses. Now, however, Link found himself staring up at this superweapon, up close and personal from the ground, with no need to run or hide…and, even then, his adrenaline immediately spiked as he nearly found himself out of breath. How large had Director Emi said Anansi was? Twenty-two meters for its main body's diameter? A full height of around twenty-five meters, now that it was on its legs? Never had Link fully appreciated such a figure of "twenty-five meters" until now. It was difficult to fathom that this massive machine could move at speeds of three hundred kilometers per hour.

He had to steel himself, though. He was not here to admire Anansi, even if he had to appreciate the superweapon as a feat of combat engineering like no other. This weapon needed to be destroyed, or the war was as good as lost.

Looking around, Link surveyed the engineers busying themselves around the hangar. Stealthy as he was, not even the Hylian agent was going to be able to plant the explosives with six technicians working simultaneously on Anansi's repair and resupply. Durandara seemed to concur with that analysis as well. "We're not going to be able to plant explosives on this thing with the engineers here," she whispered. "Do what you have to."

Link nodded solemnly at that as his gunsword found its way into his hands once more. Six seconds later, he found company only amongst dead technicians – each having their own assorted wounds of bullet holes and sword gashes – as he sheathed his weapon of choice.

"They have Anansi locked down," Durandara was quick to move onto business – urgency was important enough for her to actually _not_ make a joke about Link's handiwork – as she finally reappeared in her holographic form, gesturing up towards the spherical bottom of Anansi. Link looked up, saw what she was talking about; a circular hatch, what seemed like the entrance to the machine's cockpit, was tightly shut. It didn't look like there was a switch nearby that anyone could just throw to open it either, although the presence of a keypad hinted at the definite presence of a password option. "You can't get into the cockpit, and we don't have the time to hack it. We'll have to do this another way. I've determined certain points where I _think_ are optimal sabotage points based on armor concentration and equipment concentration. They're all up on Anansi, though, so we need to get up there. That grappling gun's starting to look good, Link. I'll walk you through planting the explosives once you're up there."

Pulling out the grappling gun, Link found himself admittedly perplexed, not just over the issue as to _how_ he was going to use the weapon, but _why_ such a weapon even existed. He agreed with Durandara's previous assessment; this _was_ a silly idea for a weapon, something that he had seen pulled off from rather ridiculous spy movies in the past. That said, though, the AI _did_ have a valid counterpoint; his weapon of choice _was_, too, an armament that, two centuries ago, had been mocked and ridiculed as an impractical weapon…until one Duchess Sieglinde of Rynwall, a Valentine noblewoman who personally led an army to deal with the Third Zoran Crusade a century and a half ago, showed what the gunsword could do when put in the right hands. Maybe Link was just going to have to give this grappling gun the benefit of doubt as well.

Looking over the grappling gun, Link could only make guesses at how the contraption worked. But if there was anything that he didn't give himself enough credit for, it was that he showed a natural affinity to machines and mechanics at a young age, which was one of the key reasons why he could drive a truck, ride a motorcycle, and fly a helicopter – and perform maintenance on all of the aforementioned vehicles – while remaining at the young age of nineteen. Based on what Link could only surmise as an educated guess, he instinctively aimed the gun slightly above one of Anansi's legs before pulling the first trigger. The magnetic harpoon at the barrel fired almost silently as the contraption's gas chamber decompressed, sending the projectile sailing into the air. It arced slightly, influenced by gravity, before making contact with one of Anansi's horizontal leg supports, sticking there; the magnet's power was greatly increased by a subtle voltage of electricity from the gun's battery that was fed through the metallic wire connecting the gun with the harpoon.

After testing how well the magnet was sticking to Anansi's leg support by tugging on the gun twice – the wire pulled taut but the harpoon refused to give in to the pressure, seemingly quite firm in its magnetism – Link pulled the second trigger, and, instantly, the harpoon gun's wheel spun, quickly reeling in the wire like a spool on a fishing rod. It ascended faster than Link would've otherwise expected, sending him into the air immediately as the magnet and cord supported his weight while pulling him upwards, his feet leaving the ground as he ascended several meters up high. Finally, upon being within arm's reach of Anansi's leg support, Link released the second trigger, and his ascent came abruptly to a halt, leaving him to only have to climb up to Anansi's metallic frame before clicking the first trigger again; electricity stopped flowing to the harpoon's magnet, and it harmlessly detached itself from Anansi's metallic armor.

Link raised his eyebrows in amused but silent approval; this thing looked like it might come in handy in the future after all. He'd have to get it back to the technicians in Hyrule – or Gerudo, now that he thought about it – to check on the full extent of this tool's capabilities, but, for now, he was quite glad Durandara had told him to pick it up back at the armory.

Durandara was quite inclined to agree. "_Very_ nice," she snipped, her digital voice thick with satisfaction. "Okay, put your explosives on the joints of each of Anansi's legs, then as much as you can on the very top of its main body. This _should_ do significant damage to the legs, as the joints are less armored, and the splash damage may damage systems under the armor. Anansi's top is also where the missile ports are located. Hopefully, the hatches are thinner than the rest of the armor. If the explosives can breach the hatches, we stand a chance of detonating the missiles within the tubes and causing even more damage to Anansi, seeing how they already rearmed this vehicle."

Link didn't wait for Durandara to finish; already, he was attaching explosives onto what he felt were the most vulnerable and sensitive components underneath the gaps of metallic armor plating between the leg supports and the legs themselves of Anansi, molding the plastic substance into flat lumps that could work its way in more easily. Getting from one leg support to another was a bit of a tiresome process that involved repeated use of the grappling gun as he swung from one quarter of the machine to another like an ape swinging on vines, but he managed.

Not fast enough, it would seem. He had only finished arming the fourth explosive on Anansi's last leg when Durandara urgently hissed, "Link, all guards are returning to their posts and are on high alert. They know something's wrong, and that I had rigged the previous drill. _Hurry_!"

Firing the grappling gun to connect the harpoon with the very top of Anansi's dome, Link subsequently pulled himself up to the upper-most part of the armored walker, finding himself easily locating the closed missile hatches of Anansi, indicated by honeycomb patterns of metal up above. Still, he tapped the armor several times to ensure that the space underneath was hollow; it was difficult to tell, considering that the missile hatches were in no way thin, but Durandara quickly confirmed by audio analysis that these were most likely the missile port hatches they were looking for, and Link immediately attached what remained of his inventory of plastic explosives before arming them.

Just in the nick of time; as Link grabbed onto his grappling gun, preparing to allow the device to allow him to descend, he spotted movement by the hangar doors. Valentine soldiers and pilots had made their way in…and judging by the fact that their assault rifles had already been shouldered as they moved in a sweep formation, it seemed as if they expected trouble.

Caught in the open and only halfway down Anansi, Link quickly pressed both triggers on the grappling gun; the harpoon disengaged itself from the armor walker's top as the cable withdrew the harpoon, sending Link on a freefall on the rest of the way down. Bullets that had been aimed for his midair center of mass a split-second ago sailed right through the air above him. It wasn't _too_ bad of a drop; his feet were dangling only five meters from the ground, and he had built up enough sideways momentum for him to initiate a roll and disperse momentum the moment he hit the ground. The experience was still slightly painful, but, springing back onto his feet, he was glad to note that the motion had prevented him from cracking or breaking any bones, or spraining any tendons. Immediately, he jumped for the nearest cover, an engineering computer console that was just conveniently nearby, and ducked there as a succession of bullets ricocheted off the metallic coverings of the computers with alarmingly loud pings.

Breathing, Link began to recollect how many soldiers he had seen coming into the hangar, tried to keep track of all the footsteps that he was hearing, spied for reflective surfaces that he could use to spot the enemy without having to peek from over…but Durandara was already one step in front of him. "Hunt-and-kill team incoming from right behind you, Link," she hissed, sounding quite alarmed. "Three soldiers armed with S80A1 rifles, two unarmed pilots, and one pilot holding a handgun of a make not registered in my records. Thirty meters and closing!"

Not the kind of odds that Link wanted to be dealing with. It would've been preferable if all of them were at close range – that would've given the Joint Intelligence agent an undeniable advantage – but beggars couldn't be choosers. It was time to change the game plan slightly as he keyed a device in one of his pockets.

Two seconds later, a large streak of black metal suddenly appeared from the rear hangar doors, moving fast. The motion alone caught the Valentine soldiers off-guard, hesitating just slightly, barely managing to sight of two hundred horsepower of military reconnaissance hyperbike before they dove for cover as Epona came too close to their comfort and swung around in a turn that nearly ran a few of them over. The Valentine soldiers scattered and fired at the bike, but they had been startled and Epona was moving too fast; their shots went wide.

Swinging around and turning, Epona eventually decelerated right beside Link, angled outwards for an escape out the back entrance which it had come in from. Not allowing Epona to come to a complete halt, Link swiftly jumped onto Epona and quickly upped the throttle on the motorcycle; it took no more than a split-second for the tires to catch friction once more, and it was on its way outwards. Continued assault rifle fire peppers the ground and walls around him, but the Valentine soldiers were too late in stopping Epona from darting out of the hangar, barely managing to squeeze through the entrance as the walls flashed right by Link in an instant.

Turning Epona right and swiftly riding his way across the fenced perimeter of the airport, Link noted that there was activity to his rear-right; a collection of Valentine humvees were driving towards him at top speeds from the main airport buildings across the runway, apparently deciding that this motorcycle-riding Valentine special forces man was _not_ a Valentine special forces man, but the source of their current problems that needed to be put down quickly. Already, a flurry of bullets and tracers from roof-mounted machine guns were firing away, bullets zinging right past Link as he strove to ride away.

It was, in a manner of speaking, time to initiate Plan B. Pulling out the remote detonators for all the plastic explosives he had planted thus far, Link stopped Epona on the runway, being just shy of a hundred meters away from the hangars…and pushed all of them.

To say that the resulting explosion was more significant than Link had suspected would've been a study in severe understatement.

To better manage fueling operations, the October City International Airport had created a unified fuel pump system that allowed for the oil to be extracted from a single cluster of fuel tanks and pumped throughout the airport, increasing efficiency and accountability due to a singular system that kept track of all fuel flows. This meant that all the pumps in which fuel was pumped through were interconnected, laced throughout the airport, managed through a single system. Of course, authorities were concerned about the safety of such a network – it would be difficult to contain a fuel explosion if the same fuel coursed throughout the entire airport, which would result in a rather massive fireball should there be a spark – so breakers were installed, thereby isolating and insulating pumps and pipes that were not being used. When require, the breakers would slide away, allowing for fuel to flow right through. In theory, this prevented what would otherwise be a rather nasty chain reaction of explosions by isolating flammable material to certain sections.

When the Valentine military commandeered October City International Airport, however, they knew not exactly how these breakers worked, nor _why_. They had initially assumed that the breakers existed mostly to control the pressure in which liquid fuel traveled through the pumps, and the haste in which their invasion was being mounted made logistical analysis of such a system hurried and inadequate. For convenience's sake, Valentine forces in the area simply slid away all the blockers, allowing all the fuel to travel along the pipes. After all, the military refueling effort was by no means an easy task, and they needed to resupply entire armies as quickly as possible; it was only logical that they use all the assets they had at any given time.

The plastic explosive that Link had placed on the fuel truck detonated into a violently expanding explosion, which, in turn, violently ignited the fuel inside the truck's container; the entire truck was instantly consumed by a massive fireball that blasted skywards, a tongue of flame shooting up. But the truck itself was still connected to hangar ten's fuel pumps, and the flames themselves shot right through the pipes, the fires moving through the fuel under hangar nine, hangar eight, hangar seven…simply spreading rapidly as the entire underground system started to catch flames that spread rapidly, making its way towards the airport and the main fuel chambers themselves.

The result was fairly predictable.

A massive series of large secondary explosions suddenly ripped through the entire airport, the result of fuel tanks connected to a system set alight being consumed in flames and exploding. They at first tore apart the hangars, engulfed them completely in fire as large scraps of metal were jettisoned violently across the tarmac. It happened too fast for Link to properly tell whether they exploded one after another or if it simply all exploded at once, but all he knew was that there was a sudden and massive column of fire, almost like a great, burning wall of angry orange, where the hangars once were, a barrier of flames reaching to the sky. These detonations instantly burned through the forefront of Link's pursuers, incinerating them immediately; one moment they were there, the next moment they were gone.

Next were the runways themselves, as the pipes also ran under the tarmac. The fires reached each area where the pipes intersected in mini-chambers were fuel was regulated and the flow measured, and they, too, erupted in smaller chain explosions that might have seemed far less frightening had it not been the fact that there was a great many of them, tongues of fire popping out from the runways akin to hornets suddenly flying out of a nest that had been kicked over. Link could not help but be reminded of a carpet bombing, a massive number of smaller bombs being expelled through a large area for effect. These detonations disintegrated the remainder of his pursuers as well, Valentine forces that were making their way towards him through the runways.

Then the fires reached the main fuel chambers.

One year ago, Link had once been witness to the testing of a ship-launched fuel-air missile, a guided thermobaric weapon. It was considered to be the most powerful warhead developed at the time, with a blast radius of around one hundred and fifty meters, enough to level nine city blocks. However, at the time of detonation, Link was standing on a battleship positioned two kilometers away from the point of detonation, and protected by makeshift transparent barriers that had been erected on the ship.

This time, he was no more than a single kilometer away, with absolutely no barriers between himself and the explosion…and the magnitude of _this_ explosion was on a _completely_ different scale.

Link instantly shielded his eyes and braced himself before he even had any idea of what was going on. The brilliant flash of light temporarily blinded him, even through his sunglasses, and the shockwave that followed instantly nearly threw him off Epona…nearly launched _Epona_ off the ground. The air was suddenly ten degrees warmer due to the expanding heat wave – Link was just glad he wasn't close enough for the heat wave to have incinerated him _completely_ – followed by a wall of dust that swiftly followed, brushing violently across him as he struggled to shield himself with his arms.

When the dust had finally settled, when he decided that it was safe to look at the airport again, he found himself staring at a scene that looked almost like it was pulled from hell itself. Dust and smoke filled the air, blotting out the blue sky and forming a hellish hue around the airport as they reflected the flames that danced across the burning airport, which had been reduced to a smoldering mess of twisted, molten, blackened metal. A second sun was rising into the sky, the fuel explosion still hanging in the air, the slowly rising mushroom cloud intermixed with fire, outshining the sun. The heat wave lingered, blurring and rippling the air and images around him like the desert sun casting mirages. And still the winds howled, swirling this way and that with its dust and echoes buffeting Link in all directions, but with far less violent force than before as he maintained his balance and stared. The only thing missing from this scene was the sight of Valentine soldiers stumbling and crawling and screaming with agony; all nearby Valentine soldiers had died instantly in the explosion with no time to suffer its effects. A few of them in airport facilities further away – in the main terminals, perhaps – may have survived…but they were too far away to be of any real threat.

Breathing once again, Link finally discovered that he had been holding his breath this whole time. The breath he inhaled was horrid; it was hot, dusty, and unpleasant. He wasn't terribly concerned, however, not with the result he had managed to produce. True, October City International Airport was completely ruined…but that also meant it completely disrupted all Valentine resupplying operations in the area. Most the supplies that had been stored here, the logistics…gone in an instant. Work crews…disintegrated. And, more importantly, Anansi…destroyed. That superweapon would trouble Hylian and Gerudo forces no more.

_Mission accomplished_, Link told himself with grim satisfaction. He could ask for no better outcome.

Once again, Durandara manifested in her holographic form, floating in the air right beside Link, and, despite the hands on her hips that would otherwise indicate at amusement over Link's explosive – understatement emphasized – method of completing their task, her facial expression seemed lightheartedly satisfied that their mission was, for the most part, over, and that Joint Intelligence had, once again, accomplished the impossible. "The explosion of that magnitude will short out much of the communications in the area," said Durandara with a bit of a smile; despite sounding pleased, her voice also sounded almost as if she was tired. It was, Link decided, rather unusual for an artificial intelligence that was not supposed to feel fatigue…but he decided that there were a lot of things he didn't know about Durandara, and decided not to think too much of it. "It'll be a while before local Valentine forces can put out a distress signal. I still suggest that we put as much distance between ourselves and October City as possible, however; Valentine command will probably be keeping tabs on Anansi, and will be worried once they can't get in touch with Valentine forces here. We need to return to the border, confirm to friendly forces…"

Whatever Durandara was going to add to her statement, she was suddenly interrupted by what sounded like a combination of a loud thump and a cacophony of rustling, screeching metal. Instantly, both she and Link snapped their heads in the direction of the ruins of hangar twelve, their eyes wide – even Link's, even though they were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. This was followed by a procession of silence that last for all of four seconds…before the same sound was made again, louder this time, and was accompanied with the sight of hangar twelve's wreckage _shifting_ as the pile of debris bulged slightly, temporarily…as if something massive under it was trying to get _out_.

"…_No_." Durandara knew what this meant, of course…but the possibilities were not something she wanted to dwell upon. In fact, the possibility had been extremely slim; what were the chances _any_ armored vehicle could survive multiple massive explosions like those that had just rocked October City International Airport? But what was she looking at _now_?

Link was of a similar belief, gaping at the moving debris, equally in disbelief. He had no audio analysis suites programmed into him, and could not calculated the likelihood of such, but he personally hoped it had just been the debris shifting. That more pieces of the hangar were crumbling away.

Then, suddenly, there was yet another explosion, but one devoid of fire or expanding gas. The pile of debris that had once been hangar twelve suddenly shot into the air like so many discarded pieces of tissue paper, flying in arcs before landing violently in all directions. And at the center of that explosion, there it was: Anansi, the massive four-legged armored walker, standing tall and proud once more as it had simply tossed aside all the wreckage around it merely by thrusting itself back onto its legs, very much operational once more.

This time, Link couldn't help but actually make an expression of shock…and disbelief. His jaw hung half-open, watching as Anansi stumbled slightly as it regained its legs, maintaining its balance like an animal that had been dealt a blow across the head and was now trying to regain its senses. He couldn't believe it. Anansi should've been _destroyed_ in that explosion. It couldn't have survived…

And then Anansi turned just ever so slightly towards where Link sat on Epona, almost like a beast suddenly turning its head to notice that there was prey in the distance…only one hundred meters away. And, lurching just once, the spider-tank suddenly let out what sounded very much like a cross between a metallic, mechanical roar and screech, its vents blasting air away from itself in all directions, another heat wave striking Link once more at the superweapon's furiously violent posturing.

If that didn't bring him back to his senses, Durandara's scream of warning most certainly did: "Link, _run_!"

* * *

**Exoria File #012  
VTSW-01D Anansi**

After the nation closed down its borders and became completely isolationist following the ultranationalist victory in the Valentine Revolution of 1490 a.s.r., Valent commissioned the nationalized Rainer Conglomerate Industries in 1491 a.s.r. to develop and construct an armored vehicle capable of carrying overwhelming firepower to lay waste to entire armies. RCI spent three years developing the initial blueprints for VTSW-01D Anansi; it was determined that size was a requirement and a liability for the design, as existing technologies at the time did not fully support the requirements Valent had established. The armored vehicle had to be large enough to carry army-destroying munitions, armored enough to resist most conventional attacks, and fast enough to avoid retaliation. As wheels and treads could not guarantee the same degree of mobility, a legged design was deemed necessary early on in the development stage. By 1500 a.s.r., nine years after the project was first commissioned and six years after the first initial designs were completed, RCI became confident that it had developed theoretical technologies enough to begin the actual construction of Anansi. Despite several developmental setbacks, the first production model was eventually unveiled in 1505 a.s.r. to the satisfaction of the Valentine military. Eventual modifications and improvements would see to it that Anansi gained a tactical edge by utilizing new, cutting-edge technologies. The armored walker is actually a three-seater, requiring a crew of three to fully utilize Anansi's capabilities in a spherical cockpit utilizing environmental digital video technology to give a spherical all-angle HUD interface that allows optimum computerized visualization outside the vehicle. Anansi is armed with ten chain guns using point-fifty anti-material ammunition to make short work of infantry platoons and lightly-armored vehicles, using a sophisticated but semi-automated computer targeting system that makes simultaneous acquisition of targets completely possible with minimal human input. It also possesses twenty-four missile ports on top of its spherical main body, carrying a significant number of top-attack anti-tank missiles. Optional armaments can also be attached upon request; Anansi was outfitted with detachable rocket pods during the invasion of Hyrule City. Anansi can achieve a top speed of three hundred and six kilometers per hour, and fields reinforced battle armor at one point eight meters thick, sufficient to dodge or shrug off most conventional anti-armor weapons. As the first Valentine superweapon to be developed, Anansi was piloted by three Valentine war criminals due to the inherent risks in the early phases of technological testing; out of convenience, however, they continued their service as Anansi's pilots when the superweapon became a conventional weapon, their loyalty guaranteed by the threat of being put back in prison.

* * *

Author's Note: For all that it means, I apologize once more for the horrendous amount of time it has taken me to upload Chapter Eleven. As you may have noticed, this chapter is slightly longer than its partners, and since the update of Chapter Ten, I have actually gone through my semester finals, so, as you might imagine, that particular period of time was full of studying and testing. Although I am now on vacation, I cannot guarantee the alacrity in which I may be able to produce Chapter Twelve; as you may have figured out, Chapter Twelve will have our first dungeon boss battle, and, as I have expressed before, I cannot say I'm delighted with writing massive battle scenes. I will, of course, do my best to bring you the next chapter in as swift a manner as possible, but, as you may have surmised, sometimes, one's best is simply not enough.

If you haven't noticed the formula in which I'm abiding by now, I cannot say anything outside how very obvious this has become. Although rather short and abridged, the trek through October City International Airport (and, if you wish to interpret it this way, Fort Regner as well) was effectively the first dungeon of this story, with Anansi as its boss battle. Unsurprisingly, Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl will also have their own respective "dungeons", and be bosses that Link will have to face. Then we will have an interlude, the mid-point of the story where _something happens_…no, I'm not going to tell you what does happen or what happens after that. You're just going to have to sit tight and be patient.

You may have also noticed that my typo rates have increased. For this I apologize; Aura, who usually handles my proofreading, has been very preoccupied as of late, and so I am deprived of someone who usually pokes me when I make stupid mistakes. I acknowledge that, as a writer, I should be proofreading my own works, but considering how long it takes me to get each chapter up, I do feel that it may simply be more prudent to provide my readers with the chapter first, then make retroactive edits when necessary. I will try to keep my mistakes under control, but I thank you first for your tolerance towards my typos, and towards the corrections you have spotted and pointed out.

Before I get to the reviews down below, I would like to remind everyone that just because I haven't responded personally to your reviews doesn't mean I haven't read or appreciated it. I do cherish every review I get, even if it's a one-liner that pretty much sums up to "good job"; I do, however, put up responses where I believe my response to a review would shed some light on potential spots of confusion, or where clarification on my part would be nice. So, please, do keep on reviewing, and there may be that chance where I find that you've said something important that I need to address.

Anonymous: _Well, now I know for certain. You are one of us._

_Great chapter, by the way. Nice to see Infant Immortality get subverted once in a while. Link seems very cold in this incarnation due to his lack of what you'd call a "real" emotional response at Lily's death (being somewhat shaken and getting over it less than an hour later doesn't qualify), but hell, what can you expect from someone who basically never speaks or socializes except when absolutely necessary?_

Define "us". XD

Link _is_ generally much more subdued in this version than in the past. This is the logical result of being trained as a human intelligence field agent, combined with the fact that Link is actually somewhat older than how he has been portrayed canonically. A lot of it is also attributed to his training, his ability to focus on the big picture and move on, but we'll see how that goes as the chapters continue to go on. I actually _do_ have an in-story explanation as to why Link hardly ever speaks, but that's _many_ chapters down the line. You're just going to have to wait.

Zero: _Just heard about this fic, and it does not disappoint. I would like to give you the best compliment towards this that I possibly can:_

_This should totally be a Zelda Game._

_In regards to your review shortage/discrepancy, it about section popularity and reader's preference. Legend of Zelda is an active community, but compared to the number of fics in Harry Potter and Naruto, it doesn't even come close. With fewer fics, fewer people are going to check out the section, and you'll get fewer reviews._

_Another issue is one you yourself pointed out. You don't mind going against the mainstream. The thing is, the mainstream is the mainstream because it appeals to most people. The majority of people don't want to see children being killed, and those that do... probably aren't in the Zelda section. Likewise, when people think of Zelda, they think of Fantasy, rather than modern day/scifi. As this goes against the general expectations, people have a tendency to avoid it, and so you'll probably get fewer reviews. Essentially, you would need to whore yourself out a bit to appeal to a broader range of readers._

_If that's really an issue, I would advertise your stories on other sites, or write some fics for more popular fandoms, and hope some of the readers check out your other stories._

_Overall, I think you're doing a good job of blending Zelda with the modern world. As you mentioned, there are some out there things, such as the super weapons, but given how Zelda features elephant sized bugs living in sentient trees, you definitely get a pass on that._

_The story seems to vary between Zelda Game and real life grittiness. You have Link pull off astounding feats (Zelda Game,) but this is contrasted by killing a 5 year old, or possible concentration/re-education camps (Real Life Gritty) this dissonance is somewhat disconcerting, but you seem to manage it fairly well so far. Hopefully you will be able to maintain that balance, or failing that, make a decision about which way you'll be going._

_I would like to call you on the "Anyone can die" position you have. I doubt that Link, Zelda, or other main characters are going to be killed, at least, not in the way you killed poor lil' Lily. If they do die, it will most likely be in an important scene, rather than by a random assassin/stray bullet offscreen. There are some named characters that are more likely to die, such as Impa, but they too have some resistance to random, pointless death._

_I do think you need to get a beta, as there are quite a few minor spelling or grammatical errors scattered through the story. Nothing major, but it is a bit irksome. A beta is always a good thing to have, since it picks out errors that spell check will miss, and gives you a chance to add some polish to the final product._

_Looking forward to the next chapter._

Oh, I'm perfectly aware of what I get – or, really, what I don't get – from _not_ writing mainstream. I just like to lament about it from time-to-time. But, first off, thank you for the long and thoughtful review, as well as the best compliments you can possibly give me.

I think I will be able to maintain that balance through _Exoria_; I won't say how, of course, as that would spoil. In an equal manner, I won't give you any response in terms of whether or not I'll actually kill important named characters; my confirming or denying it would be a spoiler, and I like my ambiguity. You'll just have to wait for when the time comes to see whether your calling me out on it doomed several important named characters.

I actually had a beta, but she has been rather busy as of late, so I've been writing without one for a while now. If you'd like to volunteer, though, I certainly wouldn't protest~

TacoKing23: _An error shortly after they reach Sirsa Base: Link is wary of snipers and has to cross what you designate as a two hundred meter stretch without cover. Later in that paragraph, you say he sprints the two kilometers. Two hundred meters is about 1800 meters less than two kilometers. Also, I'm pretty sure most Olympians would be hard-pressed to cross two kilometers at a dead sprint, to say nothing of our silent hero._

_Aside from this error, this chapter, and the ones before it, were quite good._

_Another note: You're the first person I've ever seen to use the expression, "all well and good," in a non-sarcastic manner._

That is indeed my error; it should be two hundred meters, not two kilometers, a massive omission on my part (similar to a missing zero that was pointed out by another reader and then amended afterwards). Thank you very much for informing me of such in hindsight; this should be fixed by the time you read the chapter once more.

n3cr0: _Wow... Just wow, that's what I have to start with. Like a few others here I happened to find Exoria via a completely unrelated misadventure through TVtropes, and I'm really glad I did._

_One thing I really like about this fic is the phenomenal attention to detail you have. It's quite rare to see, and with a game (more like concept in this case) such as Zelda it can only make the world you create that much more fleshed out and realistic. It also shows exactly how much you've thought this through and that more than anything else impresses me._

_One thing I do find a bit out of place is Link's weapon of choice. From what your description of it says, it's a middle ground between a gun and a sword which I have no problem with. However, when Link actually uses the sword he occasionally does so with a two handed grip which isn't actually possible on the pistol-like gun that you originally describe. I dunno, I guess it's just me being a nazi for details that don't exactly fit and it may be too late to change, but you may want to take a look at a few examples of gun/sword hybrids if you intend on upgrading his basic equipment like in a traditional Zelda game._

_Next, despite the fact that this IS a Zelda universe and that you're using the general idea behind the games as a reference I can see a lot of influences from other games (The Gunblade from Final Fantasy 8, and the idea of Quadraxis from Metroid Prime 2 being prime examples). It's quite interesting to see, and I hope to read more of this amazing story soon._

Welcome to the growing crowd of people I need to thank who found _Exoria_ via TV Tropes. I should be thanking the site for the free advertisement I'm getting.

Link's gunsword – and gunswords in general – are actually comprised of a great deal of rotating components. Humans in this universe have inferior technology in some respects compared to our real world, such as their inability to reach space quite yet, but they do make up for it with superior technology in handheld weapons. In this case, the barrel of the gun actually swivels around its grip when going into gunsword mode, creating what is effectively a straighter handle. The effect is not at all unlike the gunblades used by Lightning in _Final Fantasy XIII_, although Squall was capable of a double-handed grip with his own gunblades in _Final Fantasy VIII_ due to a longer handle. As for where I've drawn other examples, I can honestly say that I've yet to play _Metroid Prime 2_, so I have no idea what Quadraxis is.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

Link hit the throttle of Epona as fast as he could, oversized tires screeching as smoke poured from the ground as friction between the hyperbike and the asphalt became intense…

A number of flashes broke out around the circumference of Anansi, the chain guns turning and clicking and firing away…

Epona's wheels finally caught the ground completely, sending it from a flat stall to practically forty kilometers per hour in just a second, jettisoning the hyperbike and its rider away from where it was instantly…

Point-fifty rounds tore right through the ground where Link and Epona had been just seconds ago, turning a patch of clean, smooth tarmac into what looked almost like a network of miniature craters connected by a spiderweb of cracks.

Link knew that point-fifty rounds had bullets that were practically as large as a grown man's thumb. Fired at supersonic speed, it could tear through the metal plates of lightly-armored vehicles; a hail of them could destroy a modern main battle tank in the matter of seconds. Link didn't imagine that Epona would stand a chance against that kind of firepower. If the bullet so much as _grazed _his human body, he would be practically torn into two. He sped on, thankful that the Anansi's chain guns were only designed to fill the air with fire and not to pick off individual targets such as himself; that bought him a small handful of very valuable seconds in which to live as live, burning tracer fire divided the world around him with bright, angry lines.

As inaccurate as Anansi's chain guns were, however, Link knew he couldn't stay in open ground forever. A lucky shot from Anansi would finish him off instantly, and considering just how many bullets the armored walker can send in all directions, he didn't want to take his chances. He needed cover…and fast.

Swinging Epona around, Link fed power to his motorcycle, speeding it forward back towards the burning hangars, intending to use their wreckage for protection…or, at least, whatever protection it could provide. He avoided the tongues of fire that licked upwards from the ground as he hit the tarmac; the last thing he needed was to flash-melt his tires that would put a lethal end to his attempt at escaping. He didn't bother firing Epona's guns at Anansi either; it would do just about as much to the armored walker as throwing rocks at it.

Brushing right past Anansi, accelerating into two hundred kilometers per hour as he angled Epona between what remained of the hangars in preparation to weave through them, Link noticed that chain gun fire from the armored walker temporarily let up…before a massive pillar of metal suddenly landed just meters away from where he was, one of Anansi's legs coming about as the main body itself began to laboriously turn. Link instinctively turned away in reflex, tires screeching in agony as it did so, before he caught himself; he missed the first gap between the debris, so he slipped Epona into the second one…just as Anansi began to fire once more, its powerful bullets ricocheting violently off pieces of scrap metal and concrete.

Even as Link began to make another turn, moving towards the next batch of cover, he contemplated his situation a bit more. His earlier pass through Anansi had given him a good look at the superweapon, and he had noticed a favorable development: Anansi looked very much damaged. Pieces of its spherical armor had gone missing, and what remained looked cracked, peeled, and shattered, threatening to come loose like sunburned skin peeling off erratically, messily. If Link wanted to be hopeful, many of its subsystems might be damaged, and it could be operating at reduced capacity. That kind of damage was going to take a great deal of time to repair.

An explosion behind him caught Link's attention; he looked back just in time to see fire erupt out from the very top of Anansi's dome, its missile hatches open. For a moment, his heart missed a beat, realizing that the enemy was, in fact, training anti-tank missiles on him…until he realized that nothing had actually flown out of the open missile launch tubes other than debris. Link chose to interpret that as good news, that Anansi's missiles had indeed detonated inside their missile tubes, and that the explosion indicated at a terminal failure to launch. It meant that he didn't have to deal with homing weapons that were meant to destroy tanks…although it still meant having to weave through rings of chain gun fire.

Thankfully, Durandara had good news as well in that department. "Link!" the AI was practically shouting to make her voice heard above the burning fires, the mass of gunfire and explosions, and the wind rapidly brushing across Link's face. "It looks like half of Anansi's chain guns are damaged and unable to fire! Its top-attack missiles look like they're are gone too!"

In other words, Anansi had lost more than half of its weapons and was very much damaged. If it wasn't still standing and pouring a hail of gunfire down upon Link, he would've considered it a victory.

That feeling was remarkably short-lived as Link felt a sudden tremor through the ground as a tremendous bang resounded behind him. Just seconds later, he saw twenty-five meters of walking tank rushing towards him…at just under three hundred kilometers per hour. The walker didn't bother to move past the wreckage as much as it simply _plowed_ through the debris.

Evidently, the damage did not negate Anansi's ability to move. Link still had a major problem.

He turned Epona away from the hangars, moved directly towards the main terminal of the burning airport and towards October City beyond it. Weaving was useless if Anansi was just going to ignore the debris and move right through it. He needed to gain as much speed as possible and hope there's enough cover along the way to shield him from gunfire.

Still, Link couldn't help but take a moment to savor the irony. The sky was black and red with smoke and dust and flames, the ground was battered and uneven and brimming with fire, the world all around him burned…and he was making the ride of his life – _for_ his life – as he rode on a black motorcycle, being chased by a massive spider-tank of death.

_Truly a scene from hell itself_, Link thought.

Streaking past the hangars with Anansi close by, Link was only glad that only a few of its chain guns were operational and firing, and that the wreckages of several Valentine humvees along the way took the brunt of the firepower Anansi sent towards him. Parts of the main terminal in front of him were thankfully intact; parts of it were burning and collapsing, but the others seemed mostly fine, only slightly worse for the wear. The cargo handling building was one of those few portions of the airport that were still intact, so Link drove right through its oversized entrance, speeding into the building and its maze of metallic components and machinery and conveyor belts, swerving left and right to dodge obstacles from left and right and front and above as they sped right past him in flashes.

There was a huge bang behind him as the entire building shuddered and groaned; Anansi had slammed right into the wall, and although there was a massive dent – a tear, even – across the metallic wall, it barely held, and Anansi stopped where it was, deterred by this barrier preventing it from catch up to Link. That didn't stop it from trying to kill him, though; chain gun rounds tore through the metallic walls, drilling holes through them as it fired blindly and wildly into the building. Electronic and mechanical components detonated all around Link, but still he rode on. He cringed as the side of Epona's armor slammed against a protruding cargo box – there was an unpleasant metallic sound that indicated so – but, within a few seconds, he managed to make his way out from the other side of the cargo handling building; all he needed to do was to circle around the main terminal for about a few hundred meters, make his way across the main parking lot, and take the highway back to October City.

"We lost it," Durandara announced, her holographic form looking back at the cargo building that they had just left and were now gaining distance from. "I'm calculating our alternative options now."

Yet another explosion behind them turned Link's head around in alarm; he only managed to catch a glimpse of the building he had just sped through beginning to collapse…even as its roof began to crumble as a result of Anansi began to climb right _over_ it. The building finally fell to pieces and flattened to the ground as Anansi jumped right off the roof, landing with a thunderous impact onto the asphalt and concrete, giving a shrill, metallic roar once more…before chasing Link once more with ground-shaking footsteps; if machines had emotions, Link surmised that such an expression was clearly rage.

Even the usually unflappable AI was taken aback. "Oh, god," Durandara sounded almost panicked. "If it wasn't pissed before, it's certainly pissed off _now_!"

Link scowled as he dropped down a ramp that led to the lower levels of the airport's automotive exits, out of Anansi's line of fire; pieces of asphalt peppered his escape route as bullets sent pieces of the street and the metallic guardrails flying every which way.

"We need to lose it in October City!" Durandara shouted, apparently having decided such was the best chance for both of them to survive. "Anansi's speed and mobility will be restricted by its size there; we can use that to our advantage!"

Link didn't need to be told that. Heading towards October City still meant having to deal with about half a kilometer of highway, though, which was full of open ground and virtually no cover. Being caught out there without a plan and on the wrong end of so many chain guns was tantamount to suicide. He quickly tried to recall which chain guns on Anansi were still active, and where, occasionally taking a look beyond the upper platforms at the weapon he was up against. He needed to be quick about it; he was swiftly running out of top cover.

Approaching yet another open parking lot, Link quickly began to swerve left, exaggerating a turn just as he broke out from under the second story pathway, showing himself to Anansi once more. The spider-tank, tracking Epona's movements, noted that its chain guns on its left side were mostly crippled and inoperative, and began to turn counterclockwise, bringing its chain guns on the right side to bear, swiveling its body to line up its weapons on Link…

…Just as he brought Epona into a drift, the motorcycle's tires skidding and screeching and kicking up smoke as two black tire tracks divided the parking lot, dark lines forming an arc as Link made an emergency right turn. Anansi, realizing its mistake, quickly began to take correcting maneuvers, but it was too far into its turn to react quickly enough; as Anansi attempted to stop its counterclockwise turn, Link shot from left to right, speeding right past what would've otherwise been the armored walker's perfect firing position, and zooming right out of its firing zone as it entered another one of Anansi's chain guns' blind spots. It would take the machine about three seconds to compensate for this and realign Link with its guns…but he could probably manage to increase the distance between him and the machine by two hundred meters, hardly the optimum firing range on a single moving target traveling at three hundred kilometers per hour.

Even as Epona bolted down the virtually empty highway back towards October City proper, Link turned his head around, ventured a look at the rapidly shrinking Anansi. Strangely enough, his estimate had been wrong; instead of taking three seconds, the machine took _five_ to properly turn towards Link…before charging swiftly after him once more, chain guns blazing inaccurately. Link didn't complain, of course – the extra two seconds translated into an additional one hundred and fifty meters for him – but he _was_ curious towards how sluggish Anansi's movements seemed. It wasn't _too_ surprising, considering just how damaged Anansi _looked_…but Link felt it would've been nice to know what kind of damage it suffered. It might have given him an advantage, an edge.

"Anansi should've been able to catch up!" the AI shouted, her algorithms working on overload in an attempt to find some solution to their predicament; her holographic form was coated with mathematical symbols now. "Its design is symmetrical, and, judging by its movements on the video files Gerudo has on it, it doesn't have a 'front'! It can move in any four directions with ease, so it shouldn't have had to turn there! The time it took to reacquire you was also lengthy! I think the damage we've done to it has created blind spots in whatever it's using to detect you! Just keep riding and doing your thing; I'm going to monitor its movements to estimate the positions of those blind spots!"

Well, that was good news…to a point. Any disadvantage to Anansi was welcome at this point, but Link had no real intention of continuing to just "ride and do his thing", not when said "thing" involved being chased by an armored walker as its only target. Still, the remaining one hundred and fifty meters of highway to the rest of October City – and the urban cover it provided – was closed within two or three seconds, and Link was just glad that there was now no shortage of abandoned buildings and winding roads between him and his hunter. Chain gun rounds tore holes into the metal and concrete around him; Link wondered just how _much_ ammunition Anansi carried.

It wasn't only Link that was struggling; the look Durandara gave the Joint Intelligence agent was equally hard and distracted. "I have a strategy in mind," she spoke, and Link noted as he spared her a glance that he could barely see the outlines of her holographic form anymore, her transient body now merely a mess of lines and symbols that indicated just how much calculations she was conducting at once, "but I need you to buy me some time. Give me a minute or two; I'm creating a program that I'm going to upload onto Epona as soon as I'm done. Stand by."

That was a minute or two more than he cared to spend fleeing. Still, it wasn't if he had a particular choice; he swerved just in time as bullets cut up a nearby wooden post that acted as a power line, sending splinters flying into the air. Link turned Epona into smaller alleys, hoping to be able to lose Anansi, but it followed relentlessly; the buildings here, the highest among them being only three stories tall, proved to be insufficient when it came to protecting him from a superweapon with a twenty-five meter high vantage advantage. A superweapon that, in fact, didn't even _bother_ with roads as it continued to close the Euclidean distance between hunter and prey by stomp right over, or – most frequently – right _through_ the buildings Link attempted to seek cover in.

This wasn't good. He needed to find taller buildings in which to shake this pursuer; he was going to have to head for the skyscrapers downtown.

The building right beside him suddenly exploded; Anansi had dashed and plowed right through a warehouse, the tremendous force launching bricks, plaster, and splinters into the air before gravity took hold, pelting Epona with significant pieces of debris and knocking it into a chaotic skid. Link scowled even as he immediately drew his gunsword with one hand, attempted to fight for control over Epona with the other; his sword snapped to and fro, trying to knock away what pieces of debris he could. Most of the pieces of wreckage bounced off Epona's armor that protected Link, but there were still bits and pieces that struck his aching muscles. Those were going to leave bruises, but that was the _least_ of his worries. He fed more gas to Epona, trying to keep up an appreciable velocity even as he dodged or knocked away bricks and did his best to avoid Anansi's massive pillar-legs; apparently, the crew of that walker either overshot him in their zeal…or decided crushing him was going to be an easier task.

The tires caught traction just as Anansi passed right over Epona, and the motorcycle shot swiftly away through the street, accelerating as quickly as it could. Anansi pulled itself out of another building it had crashed and embedded itself into, and continued giving chase mere seconds afterwards.

As he sped through downtown October City, Link noted with some alarm that there was still a light Valentine presence in the area. He mentally cursed at himself; that was sloppy. Of course the explosion wouldn't have done anything to the soldiers that had been sent on patrol across the ruins of the city…except throw them into confusion. For the most part, they were just trying to figure out why their control and command center was now a massive fireball; for the most part, they ignored the special forces lieutenant in a black motorcycle speeding right by – they had no reason to suspect Link of anything – at least, until Anansi came stomping right through the street, chain guns blazing as cars were knocked violently into the air, joining their smaller metallic counterparts as bullets flew along with them. Some of those unfortunate enough to stand on the streets long enough were cut down by a hail of stray tracer bullets that filled the streets; quicker soldiers quickly fled for side alleys to flee from a rampaging Anansi. Link himself swiftly cut into one of those corridors as well.

If it was any comfort, though, the buildings all around him stretching a great many meters over both him and Anansi provided an excellent form of cover; it would be easy to allow the local cityscape absorb the damage of bullets, slip through alleys that Anansi couldn't possibly follow through.

Or not.

Buildings crumbled behind him; Link turned around just in time to see a massive sphere of metal suddenly emerge from what had once seemed like an urban wall formed by downtown buildings, Anansi simply powering right through them with impossible force, the kind of force that could be achieved when sprinting at three hundred kilometers per hour. The two buildings, pulverized, collapsed onto each other just as Anansi slipped right through the toppling pile of bricks, barely escaping from structures burying it into the streets…and went back to following Link, disappearing only momentarily by the cloud of dust that expanded rapidly outwards as both buildings crashed violently to the ground right behind Anansi.

Link knew not that the pilots for Anansi were ex-military convicts – diagnosed as mentally unbalanced – that had been selected as pilots due to their dispensability during the early and dangerous testing periods of the superweapons, the threat of returning to prison the sword Valent held over their heads as a means of keeping them loyal. That said, though, Link did not need to think too hard to draw upon a conclusion: These people were insane.

Even under such circumstances, his electronic assistant still had rather explicit orders for him. "Link, I need you to find somewhere you can have Epona power down and stay still for thirty seconds without being detected by Anansi. I'm going to upload an upgrade to its systems."

Although he trusted Durandara to not make such a demand unless she felt it was worth it, the Joint Intelligence agent still felt remarkably troubled, if not irritated, by such. Staying still for thirty seconds while _this thing_ was after him? He didn't even know where he could _begin_ to hide. Maybe he could've attempted something in Hyrule City, somewhere he was more familiar with, but October City was as much of a labyrinth to him as it was to Valentine forces…and, unlike Anansi, he couldn't exactly charge his way through walls and buildings.

Link quickly activated the map system on Epona; he needed to find the nearest tunnel. The result came only four seconds later as the computer outlined a path towards the Ninth Street tunnel – itself actually mostly a road that took a deep incline as it rolled under Holloway Boulevard – that was comfortably only two turns and four hundred meters away. He made the first turn one hundred meters down the line…and watched as a light pole suddenly flew across the air like a spear, its tip crashing against the asphalt where Epona had been just a split-second ago before cracking into two, tumbling skywards in chaotic arcs. Anansi was practically running through _everything_ now.

_Let's see you run through this_, Link mentally scowled, making a second turn seconds later and watched in satisfaction as Ninth Avenue took a downhill incline right under Holloway Boulevard. Already, he was easing on the throttle and hitting the breaks, allowing Epona to come to a sliding halt, tires screeching as they drew dark lines across the asphalt, finally coming to the halt in the dead middle of the tunnel. Apprehension turned into satisfaction as Anansi's legs swiftly appeared from around the corner, turned to follow Link…and found themselves crashing against the Holloway Boulevard overpass; unlike the thin brick walls of the previous buildings, the thick concrete of the highway refused to budge or give way. A few cracks and miniature craters marked where Anansi had slammed its armor into it – the battle armor itself seemed even more damaged than the Holloway Boulevard overpass – but it held steady.

"I'm starting the upload," Durandara informed Link all while the clicking of spinning chain guns – the agent could actually _hear_ the weapons spinning up at this proximity – turned into a deafening chain of cracks that was thankfully dampened by virtue of Anansi being outside the tunnel. It was a futile gesture on the spider-tank's part; the point-fifties had absolutely no chance of puncturing so much concrete and asphalt, and the walker's size made it impossible for Anansi to lower its chain guns enough to get good shots into the tunnel. It slammed the tunnel once more, with predictable and unyielding results. "The firmware will take thirty seconds to install, so Epona will be on standby mode for that time. I'm going to have to expedite this process myself manually, so don't distract me."

Nodding absentmindedly to Durandara, Link watched as Epona's screen went dark and its engine powered down, beginning a silent thirty-second countdown…even as Anansi's legs suddenly disappeared from view, the tank going upwards, climbing from the descending Ninth Avenue onto the overpass that was Holloway Boulevard. That, the agent knew, was a useless gesture, for he was positioned smack in the middle of the tunnel; if Anansi couldn't hit him from one side, the other side wasn't going to work either. Already, Link was counting the seconds by in his head. It was nice to know that there'd be a fairly peaceful twenty-five seconds before he would need to make another mad dash.

His somewhat blissful thoughts were interrupted by a very loud _bang_.

The sound was startling enough to cause even Link to flinch once in his motorcycle. His gaze shot upwards in alarm, noting that it was where the sound had come from…and where a certain amount of dust was suddenly falling from the ceiling. Two seconds passed, and then there came another violent _bang_ from the ceiling of the tunnel. Small cracks began to form across the concrete that made up the overpass-tunnel. In fact, the entire ground _shook_ with each tremor, practically jolting Epona and its rider slightly into the air. It was almost as if something was _hammering_ the Holloway Boulevard overpass from above.

Another cacophonous crash resounded above him, and there was a very obvious snapping sound this time; Link gritted his teeth as he watched a massive crack snake its way instantly across the concrete rooftop. There was only one conclusion he could come to.

_It can _jump_?_ Link thought in dismay. _Now that's just _cheating_._

The jumps were becoming increasingly rapid, many tons of hardened armor now joining in on a relentless assault of the structural integrity of the overpass right above Link. Never had Link wished the seconds could pass by faster any more than this even as ten seconds remained on his mental countdown, watching as the ceiling above him shattered into a colorless mosaic, threatening to collapse on him on any second. If he abandoned Epona, he was dead; he would not be able to either outrun _or_ outgun Anansi. If the ceiling collapsed on him, he was dead; all the survival training in the world wasn't going to save him from tons of concrete burying him alive…or outright crushing him.

There was a bang, and this time, the _crack_ sound clearly indicated that this was where Holloway Boulevard would finally give in. Link quickly raised his arms and shielded his head as he bowed low on Epona – a futile gesture, he knew, but such was instinct – but noted quickly that the ceiling of the tunnel had collapsed only meters away from the spot he was under; chucks of debris rained down and crushed the ground next to him, but he was otherwise unharmed, watching as rays of light poured in from the opening in the roof of the tunnel…a light that was quickly obscured as Anansi suddenly came into view through the crack, blocking out Link's view of the sky.

It was impossible for Durandara, even when concentrating, to _not_ notice that part of Holloway Boulevard had suddenly caved-in, and Anansi was bent on crushing them. Emerging from her cocoon of focus, she said distractedly but urgently, "Just another five seconds, Link!"

Link gritted his teeth and throw a scowling look at Durandara, noting that Anansi's chain guns, visible from the concrete gash above, were already beginning to spin. They didn't _have_ five seconds.

Bolts of light came from the remaining intact chain guns pointing at Link…which was thankfully only two. "Thankfully" be a subjective word, of course; it was well and good that he didn't have _five_ guns trained on him, but two was still, in his opinion, too much for anyone to have to face, especially when said item in question were point-fifty chain guns. The bullets, however, remained notoriously inaccurate. A combination of the crack not being remarkably wide, the chain gun's inherent inaccuracy, and Anansi's damaged auxiliary subsystems effectively meant that most of the bullets were actually still ricocheting against the asphalt and concrete of Holloway Boulevard, and very few were making it into the Ninth Avenue tunnel. Nevertheless, Link ducked, pushing himself further into the armored groves of Epona; point-fifties would tear through the motorcycle, but, if he was lucky, it would at least protect him to a limited extent.

_If_ he was _very_ lucky.

The screen on Epona's computer suddenly came to life, and the engine rumbled softly with a low, quiet growl as the motorcycle awakened from its slumber. "Reactivating all systems," a disembodied computerized voice spoke, but Link hardly paid any attention to that.

"Go!" Durandara shrieked. "_Go-go-go-go-go_!"

Link needed no further encouragement. He hit the gas, but brought Epona into an easy acceleration; the crack was small, and there was no use burning rubber in an attempt of a fast acceleration that would keep him where he was for a second or two while the tires attempted to gain traction…a second or two that could potentially have fatal results. Epona moved gently out of the way and out of the line of fire, disappearing from the crack that Anansi had been aiming at Epona through. Anansi dealt with that problem; it jumped once more…and _much_ more of Holloway Boulevard came crashing down, the gash in the overpass becoming a full-blown hole that exposed Link to the sunlight.

Epona accelerated out of the tunnel and back into the city streets. Anansi followed and blazed its chain guns. The chase continued in earnest.

"TETRA System 3.4 online," a voice all too similar to Durandara sudden spoke out; however, it was a stoic, emotionless voice, entirely unlike the artificial intelligence's usually perky tone…and it actually seemed to come from Epona's computer. Link looked down just in time to see a splash screen unravel itself on Epona's monitor as the operating system rebooted with a new upgrade. Despite not being particularly brilliant with computers, he could only imagine that the voice had something to do with Durandara having programmed the patch onto Epona using her own coding. "Resuming all functions from standby."

"Don't get too comfortable with her," the _real_ Durandara scowled, almost sounding annoyed while she was at it. "She's not nearly _half_ the lady I am."

Link now knew two things for sure: That Durandara _did_ use part of her own coding to upgrade Epona, and that she was insane. How could she crack _that_ kind of joke at a time like this?

The Joint Intelligence agent shook the thought out of his head. No, the AI was probably just trying to keep him calm, despite the odds. Besides, she had a strategy in mind, which means she had a sound mind – or as close to a mind as artificial intelligences could get – and wasn't going insane or rampant or anything like that. Link nodded to the feminine hologram floating beside him; now would be a _very_ good time to share that strategy of hers.

"Spectroimagery analysis shows that Anansi's leg supports have been severely damaged. It can still achieve top speeds, but chances are that if we apply enough trauma to the supports, we will effectively be able to detach Anansi from its legs and render it immobile."

The furrowing of Link's brows practically echoed, "_Trauma_?"

Despite all that was happening, Durandara still sounded vaguely apologetic, as if she knew Link wasn't going to receive this news well. "Climbing onto Anansi with your magnetic grappling gun and delivering surgical strikes with your gunsword is probably the best option."

Link decided that he was going to take back his thoughts from earlier: Durandara _was_ insane after all.

"Hey," the AI sounded annoyed; it didn't take to the Joint Intelligence agent's doubts towards her rationality well. "If you have any better ideas with what resources we have right now, I'll be happy to listen."

Link took a moment to consider that. It _was_ potentially possible. The blade of his gunsword was forged from one of the hardest alloys known to man, an artificial allotrope that made it much sturdier than even conventional battle plating. The blade itself was also regularly sharpened using laser precision equipment, giving it unrivaled cutting power. Link's gunsword _was_ able to slice through the clamps on the hatch to a Valentine APC in Sirsa Military Airbase, after all; the metals forming Anansi would undoubtedly be harder to cut through, but its sensitive components, the gears working its legs, shouldn't be _that_ much harder. Crazy as it sounded, it was potentially worth a try. It wasn't as if he hadn't considered this as a suicide mission in the first place anyways. There was still the question of what he was going to do about Epona if he actually managed to get onto Anansi; the motorcycle had an auto-drive function, yes, but it was strictly used for getting from one set of coordinates to another while simultaneously mapping out a path on topographical data and immediate spectroimagery analysis, not following or trailing a walking tank.

Thankfully, once again, a solution to this was brought about by Durandara. "The firmware I just uploaded onto Epona upgrades its auto-drive functions. I can remotely control Epona and try to keep it both safe and nearby while you do your thing. It's something I've written up in just half a minute, so I don't know how well it works, but it should be good enough to get you past _this_ ordeal."

That was good enough for Link; it wasn't as if he had any better alternative at the moment anyways. He wasn't going to outrun Anansi like this anytime soon…and he didn't have the firepower to go toe-to-toe with such a behemoth. Durandara's suggestion, insane as it was, seemed to be the only viable option. The magnetic grappling gun quickly found its way into Link's left hand, and he took careful aim, reminding himself that he needed to stay clear of Anansi's swinging legs all while trying to get as close to the leg joints as possible. Making a turn for a corner, he deliberately hit the brakes and slowed out of Anansi's sight; he was going to need the mechanical monster to overshoot him by a bit, or else their opposing momentums would crush him when he attempted to ascend.

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to concentrate, pacify his heartbeat, and stabilize his aim, Link reviewed once more exactly what he was doing: He was going to use a magnetic grappling gun to pull himself onto a twenty-five meter tall armored walker while it was moving at around three hundred kilometers per hour so he could inflict enough damage on Anansi's legs, even while said armored walker continued to shoot at him and crush him against buildings.

Needless to say, this was insane.

Anansi rounded the same corner with a roar. Clearly, however, it hadn't expected Link to have stopped around the bend, where he quickly fed power to Epona, allowing for both vehicles to temporarily travel in the same direction and the same trajectory. The sights of the magnetic gun lined up with the spot on Anansi's armor where Link guessed would be an optimum position for him to ascend to. He fired, and the magnetic harpoon fired up and out, connecting itself with the center dome of Anansi. Link pulled the second trigger, and soon found himself being pulled out of the seat on his motorcycle moving at high speeds towards a walking tank moving at high speeds.

He shot up, barely managing to avoid one of the massive moving legs in the process; those legs moved _fast_, and being struck by a massive metallic pillar – or striking it himself – wasn't something that he looked forward to in particular. Link instinctively curled into a ball in midair, bending his legs as if he was crouching, absorbing the shock of landing on Anansi's hull as he finally made contact with it, hanging practically sideways on the machine, as if he was rappelling on a wall. His feet were as firmly planted on the battle plating as possible; considering that Anansi was still moving at three hundred kilometers per hour, that was saying something.

The chain guns on Anansi stopped spinning and firing. Link ventured a guess that either he somehow managed to get into one of the Durandara-theorized Anansi's "blind spots", or the walker's crew was too stunned at the kind of thing he just pulled off to properly react. That was welcome news; he could use the extra time.

Taking the chance to look down, Link's eyes trailed Epona, the motorcycle he had just left running on the ground. To some mild surprise and definite satisfaction, the motorcycle still looked like it was running smoothly, jetting along the street in a perfectly balanced manner. Hopefully, Durandara was as good a rider as Link was, and could manage navigating the city streets while avoid being riddled with armor-piercing bullets.

Almost as if he was rappelling, Link kicked off Anansi's armor swiftly but softly, allowing for the momentum to do the rest of the work as the mere force of detaching his boots from battle plating swung him sideways across the dome and closer towards the supports that kept every leg attached to Anansi's core dome. He had to compensate in midair, shifting his weight as he realized that he was going to overshoot the support by a margin of centimeters, but managed to hover across Anansi's upper circumference before gently – as gently as one could possibly get with this maneuver, at any rate – settling his feet on one of the supports. Between hanging onto the grappling gun and keeping his feet planted on a fast-moving walker, Link barely managed to maintain balance…and, at least, gained enough of a foothold to convince himself that he wasn't about to be tossed unceremoniously off the walker for now as he lowered into a crouch.

_Okay, so far as good_.

The gunsword in his hand once more, Link carefully eyed the leg supports, rapidly scanning where it was best to attempt to stab the conglomerate of joints of gears and rotating plates that allowed for the legs to move. It was no easy task, with all the moving and rotating parts doing so at an alarmingly rapid rate. Furthermore, a whirring sound from below him caught Link's attention; apparently, Anansi had finally found him, and were warming and spinning up, preparing to unleash a hail of bullets on him. At this range, only a scant few meters away, the chain guns wouldn't miss. Link's estimate was that he had no more than three seconds. It was now or never.

Link plunged his gunsword into the leg support…and hoped the gunblade wouldn't snap.

It didn't. It jolted violently several times in startling succession, almost as if the handle of the gunsword would practically knock his grasp off, but he managed to impale the leg support, the hardened blade cutting cleanly through the moving, vibrating parts that actually gave more credence to the gunsword's cutting power. Furthermore, he had stuck the blade into parts that moved parallel to the blade, running against the edge…and inflicting greater damage on the metallic structure. Sparks and bits of metal began to spew into the air; Link instinctively brought up a gloved hand – the one that had been holding the gunsword – and shielded himself. Most of the splinters bounced harmlessly off his arm; one metal piece struck him hard enough for Link to know that it was going to leave a bruise.

Then, with one small bang, a miniature explosion rippled within the leg support, crumbling it and shattering it to pieces, before the leg finally detached itself from Anansi's main body. Sparks flew into the air and wires stretched and snapped as the leg began to topple, falling away from the massive metallic core and falling towards the asphalt. Link had not the luxury to watch it hit the ground, however; the chain guns were warmed up now, and he had about a split-second to avoid its aim. With one hand still on the handle of the magnetic grappling gun, Link quickly grabbed onto his gunsword with his other hand once more and dove into the air. The deafening blasts of two chain guns blared, but the Joint Intelligence agent was already swinging away like a monkey swinging on a vine, hot tracers blazing over the spot where he had been before above and behind him.

The loss of a leg temporarily teetered Anansi off-balance, and it began to tilt, began to waver as it quickly decelerated, killing its momentum to prevent itself from toppling over from its own speed. Balance, however, clearly wasn't something that a three-legged Anansi could manage too well, however, as the armored walker deliberately twisted itself into a spin, trying to divert the momentum…and bringing itself right towards another five-story building. While Link was still holding onto his dear life.

A drop from fifteen meters up from an armored walker running at somewhere between one hundred and two hundred kilometers per hour – Link certainly wasn't keeping track at this point – could easily be lethal, but not _nearly_ as lethal as being squashed between a spider tank running itself into a five-story building while he was still on it; there was no chance Link could survive _that_.

He braced himself as quickly as he could…and deactivated the magnet on his grappling gun. The "harpoon" detached itself from Anansi's hull, and Link found himself falling towards the ground at a speed faster than he would generally care for. The sideways momentum was going to be painful, to say the least, if not fatal.

The ground was closing fast; Link braced himself once more, preparing to try to initiate a roll that would smoothen his landing…or, at least, smoothen it as well as he could for a person that was about to become the world's softest and fastest-moving skipping stone across asphalt and concrete.

Thankfully, Durandara got there first. There was a flash of black metal, and Link suddenly found himself slamming against Epona instead, something that was _much_ more preferable; the fact that the motorcycle, too, was traveling at a respectable parallel speed effectively absorbed much of the sideway momentum, and the slightly cushioned seat was a good replacement for asphalt and concrete after a fifteen meter drop. By no means did it _not_ hurt – Link winced upon impact, barely landing upright on the motorcycle, almost falling off and very much hanging onto his dear life – but the alternatives were simply that much more deadly. He decided to accept what he got as he pulled himself back onto Epona – which slowly decelerated before handing manual control back to Link – and silently thanked Durandara for managing to catch him just in time.

For one thing, the AI certainly wasn't going to let Link live that down. "Always covering your ass," she quipped smartly in a voice that clearly told she was somehow grinning.

Link turned the motorcycle around just in time to see two things. First off, the leg that he had managed to cut off from Anansi's core had finally toppled over much like a tree that had been chopped, and collapsed onto the ground with a thundering impact; Link could've sworn that the bang alone shot Epona a centimeter or two into the air despite being a good hundred meters away. The way it crushed several abandoned cars and shattered them into pieces clearly told that one leg alone weighed at least several tons.

Then came Anansi.

The spider tank could not recover in time, and despite its attempt to divert its trajectory, it could not save itself from crashing through a five story metallic building. The building was quickly ripped asunder by the brute force of tons of battle plate crashing right through it, metal beam tearing apart and concrete walls shattering as the mass of Anansi crushed it, reduced it to a pile of scraps and dust. Yet even crashing through a building could not provide the crutch – the steadying force – Anansi needed to keep itself upright, and the tank kept stumbling…

…Right into the Alexis Building. Which, unlike the five-story building Anansi had plowed through, was a building that took up half the city block…and, with thirty-one floors, stood at one hundred and twenty-eight meters in height.

Link watched with a degree of awe as Anansi began to tilt and fall even as it crushed right through the Alexis Building, taking out its structural supports on the first few floors in the meantime that sealed the fate for both the building and the walker itself. With its foundations completely gone, the rest of the building rapidly began to collapse, tilting over slightly as it crashed into another building, the corner of its rooftop skidding across a nearby building even as it crushed itself under its weight, toppling downwards and began a swift process of reducing itself to dust and rubble. Pieces of debris – glass and metal shards – began to rain down from the sky.

For one thing, Link suddenly found himself too uncomfortably close to the Alexis Building…and Durandara certainly agreed with that mindset. "Now would be a _very_ good time to leave!" she shouted. "Punch it!"

Link certainly didn't waste any time in that regard. Epona quickly spun around once more and shot down the street in the opposite direction, putting a reasonable distance between himself and Anansi. He wanted to be as far away as possible to prevent himself from being caught in what seemed fairly similar to a cataclysm, but he was going to have to return eventually to confirm the kill. Still, he couldn't help but throw looks backwards as the Alexis Building swiftly disappeared under the rest of the October City cityscape, accompanied by miniature explosions that sounded very much like Anansi's subsystems detonating under all that abuse, a cloud of dust and echoes expanding outwards and up.

Link had only begun to decelerate with Epona, preparing to turn around to confirm that Anansi was indeed down, when Durandara quickly spoke, her voice clearly alarmed. "Link, I'm detecting a wildcat destabilization of Anansi's core. There's a high energy reaction coming from within it. I have no idea what's going on, but I suggest that we get out of here right _now_!"

Although he was not certain what a "wildcat destabilization" was, he was quite certain that, whatever it was, he did not want to be around when it happened. He continued to ride away, taking an opportunity to turn southwards in his escape route.

The explosion was almost silent.

The Joint Intelligence agent had seen enough action in his day to know that explosions were not a slowly expanding ball of fire that action heroes could outrun in movies; rather, they were near-instantaneous violent expansions of gas that generally occurred just as fast as one could blink. But as October City was suddenly filled with light and Link turned around to look behind him, he realized that this explosion was not like anything he had seen before. For one thing, there was no blast, no shockwave, no supersonic fist that shook him to the core. There was no cloud of fire or smoke, just a sphere of light that quickly expanded. The only real sounds that Link could hear was that of sizzling, the burning and roasting and melting of anything that came into contact with the explosion and disappeared within it.

Link would stared much longer in all at the explosion of brilliant light that looked almost a kilometer in diameter…had he not been trying to get as far away from it as possible.

And it was there that the explosion remained for a great many seconds, a giant bright orb protruding from the October City cityscape…before it finally dissipated slowly into flickers of light and ashes, leaving only a devastated crater behind where Anansi and the rest of the city once was.

* * *

The hours that Link spent from after his battle with Anansi in his attempt at reaching the extraction zone at the Hylian-Gerudo border gave him plenty of time to recollect on the battle experience with Anansi. Using the codes that had been provided to him prior to the mission, Link had Durandara attempt to send the proper signals to Gerudo, the sign that Link had succeeded in his mission, and was requesting immediate extraction. Durandara noted that the ECM in the area had been reduced dramatically, but it was still too heavy for her to accurately judge whether or not she could receive a reply. They were just going to have to hope that someone had actually heard them on the other end, and that there was a transport helicopter at the Hylian-Gerudo border to whisk him back to Fort Garuda.

For one thing, Link did not feel that he was as remarkably lucky as he had been during his escape from Hyrule City. Of course, he was not nearly vain enough to believe that this was compensated by himself and his skills; what he considered to be the greatest contribution to the entire mission was the intelligence and logistics conjured by the planning staff. All he did was follow operational protocols, but it was thanks to the planners over in Fort Garuda that he had actually had the chance to track down Anansi. The process of infiltrating both the Fort Regner township and October City had not been something Link had not experienced in the past; it was, of course, on a far different scale, but he felt that he had been calm and rational, very professional, and he realistically handled each situation in a competent manner that maximized his chances of survival, contrary to his foolhardy escape from Hyrule City.

Well, there _was_ his runaway from Anansi. He certainly had never tried that before, and he never wanted to do such a thing again. Link honestly wasn't sure whether he was supposed to be extremely unlucky – that Anansi still somehow managed to survive the initial explosion at October City International Airport – or extremely lucky – that the explosion had been damaging enough to greatly diminish Anansi's capabilities and give him some form of fighting chance. But, all things considered, he was just glad he was alive, and the mission was accomplished. Hopefully, this would make the war effort that much easier, with one superweapon out of the picture.

For now, though, he was hungry. And, thankfully, despite having been left in the refrigerator for a week, it seemed that the food he had found was still not past its expiration date.

The hours had transformed afternoon into night, and, with him nearing the Hylian-Gerudo border once more, Link had stopped by what seemed like an abandoned log cabin when he made a turn into the Hylian forests for extra cover. The inhabitants had clearly evacuated from the area, but electricity was still being fed into this retreat. Even better was that the refrigerator was well-stocked with food, and after having undertaken this mission with few chances to grab a bite, Link easily admitted that he felt quite voracious.

Rummaging through the contents of the refrigerator, Link actually found himself squinting as the lights from within the device shone at his eyes; the lights in the house were dark, and Link wasn't about to turn them on and attract the attention of any possible Valentine patrols that might be in the area. He was, after all, getting close to the main line of resistance, and the fewer Valentine soldiers that the extraction party meant to take Link back to Fort Garuda, the better. He just hoped that Gerudo forces had picked up his signal and were on route and waiting.

The Joint Intelligent agent had only picked out a sandwich from the refrigerator when he was suddenly interrupted. "Link," Durandara asked out-of-the-blue, her voice betraying a certain amount of uncertainty. "Back in October City…did Anansi _roar_ at us?"

That incurred a blink as Link thought back. Now that he thought about it, yes, Anansi _did_ roar at them, didn't it? Well, it was less of a roar that it was a thunderous sound that involved a tremendous amount of hot air being expelled through the vents of the machine, but the effect certainly was there, with all its mechanical, animalistic fury. Although, strangely enough, "animalistic" was not the first word Link would use to describe Anansi, not when it was, for all intents and purposes, a _spider_ tank. That said, he shot Durandara a confused look; why was she suddenly bringing this up now?

Taking note of Link's puzzled expression, Durandara merely smiled in a manner that was almost sheepish in nature. "I'm sorry, I know, I just thought about it." She pointed to the open refrigerator, shrugged. "Fridge logic?"

Link groaned, and Durandara giggled apologetically; even by the AI's standards, that was a rather horrible pun. That giggle, however, was cut off abruptly as what seemed to be a quick flash of light attracted the attention of both the Hylian and the AI as they turned their heads in alarm towards outside the window. It seemed exceptionally dark outside, yet they were sure they had seen a powerful set of lights some distance away further into the forest…that soon began to reappear here and there. Repeatedly. And it didn't seem to be just one set either. Link squinted his eyes; if he had to make a guess, those were humvees that were now driving their way through the forest towards their direction.

"They're coming from the north side," Durandara quickly filled in the blanks even as Link swiftly closed the refrigerator door to kill all sources of light and began to move towards the front door back to Epona. "Chances are they're a Valentine search party."

In other words, they needed to go. Link had already managed to get back onto Epona, starting up the engine and turning it southbound once more in preparation to make it further towards the border. There might not be any friendlies waiting for him there – the possibility of Valentine forces at the border had not escaped him either – but it wasn't as if he had much of a choice.

Looking back at the sets of lights behind him, Link quickly deduced that there were too many humvees behind him – easily a dozen – for him to safely attempt to hide, not when he also had Epona with him. The humvees could easily fan out and cover a great deal of area, and although Epona was camouflaged for nighttime operations, it just wasn't something he wanted to risk. At this point, it was arguably safer for him to just try to outrun the Valentine search party…and, to do that, he was going to have to drive through the forest in the middle of the night.

As much as he didn't want to do this, Link knew that the alternative was to risk crashing into a tree; he switched Epona's lights on to illuminate his path before quickly speeding through the trees.

The Valentine search team obviously saw the light in the distance; the engines of the humvees broke into a roar and quickly gave chase from a distance. The hunt was on again.

The machine guns on top of the Valentine humvees blazed with fire, and tracers tore up Link's world once against, ricocheting against trees and sending splinters of wood flying everywhere. But the shots were inaccurate, the Valentine gunners aiming only vaguely in the direction of the illuminated areas by Epona's headlights as opposed to Epona itself, almost invisible from a distance in the black night. Link knew that was to his advantage, but not much longer. Looking at the maps, he knew it would be only a matter of time before he was pushed out of the forests, and he would no longer have the effective cover of so many trees. Link himself could only judge the distance and direction of each humvee by their set of headlights bobbing up and down in the darkness, disappearing every now and then behind the rows of trees.

"I'm receiving a scrambled signal one kilometer south of us," Durandara suddenly noted, her voice thick with concentration. "It's very weak. I can't be sure if it's a Gerudo signal or a Valentine one, but…"

Link didn't need Durandara to figure it out; at this point, it was definitely worth the gamble. He veered the motorcycle off the dirt road and into the wilderness of trees, trying to gain more cover as the humvees seemed to be gaining ground. Epona simply couldn't make corners or traverse dirt roads better than the four-wheel drives that were the Valentine humvees behind him, which were now seemingly no less than one hundred meters away. He needed to even the playing field, even if the signal ahead was some sort of Valentine trap.

Now that he thought about it, Link wondered how ironic it would be that he had managed to survive infiltrating Fort Regner and October City, and moreorless singlehandedly destroying Anansi, and yet possibly be defeated here by a handful of humvees so close to the border.

One of the humvees managed to veer in from the left, getting too close, trying to cut of Link's path even as the gunner swiveled the machine gun on the vehicles towards Epona. The agent swiftly matched this motion by initiating an evasive maneuver…right _towards_ the humvees. Aligning Epona's nose with the humvee, he clicked the trigger of the motorcycle's two point-fifty caliber machine guns. The humvee's armor was not strong enough to withstand such high caliber rounds, and the vehicle was quickly riddled with bullet holes, killing the crew inside. A moment later, the humvee careened out of control, hit a log, and went flipping through the air.

A minor victory, but Link knew the rest of the pursuers wouldn't make that mistake again.

"One hundred meters to go!" Durandara called out. "We're almost there!"

One hundred meters for a hyperbike was over in a flash. Durandara had barely finished the sentence when the edge of the forest came to the end, and Epona came barreling out of the forest, Link finding himself riding through a small open plain that would lead onwards towards the Gerudo deserts…and found himself looking at silhouettes of a column of a dozen Gerudo infantry fighting vehicles lined up at the edge of the forest, ready to turn one hundred meters of open area between themselves and the forest into one glorified kill zone.

None of the Gerudo IFVs fired on him, thankfully, and Link quickly saw one Gerudo MICO major quickly motioning with her hand for Link to get Epona behind something solid to prevent himself from being hit by the incoming firepower.

Link was glad to see Jessica…and even gladder to see her at the trigger of a multi-rocket launching system mounted on her IFV.

A series of flashes, headlights from behind the trees, was the prelude to the storm, a reprieve before the dozen Valentine humvees came rolling out of the forest…and Jessica opened fire.

The infantry fighting vehicle was effectively something of a compromise between a tank and a humvee, boasting the tank's armor and the humvee's mobility and weaponry. In this case, the IFV in question had a multi-rocket launcher installed, something that the Valentine humvees simply couldn't deflect with just a few centimeters of armor. Rockets flew from Jessica's IFV before the rest of the Gerudo armored forces joined in on the shoot, and, instantly, explosions were detonating across the treeline, rockets unleashing their explosive payload and turning the first wave of humvees into burning scrap metal. The Valentine machine gunners frantically fired back with their own machine guns, but the rounds merely bounced harmlessly off the heavy armor plating of the infantry fighting vehicles.

It did not take long for the Valentine forces to decide that they were completely outgunned in this ambush; mere seconds later, all of the humvees killed their headlights, disappearing from the view of the Gerudo IFVs before quickly hitting reverse and retreating for cover into the forests once more, leaving half a dozen burning wreckages behind.

Jessica, expelling a breath of relief, turned around to look at where Link had sought cover with Epona behind her own IFV, found him calmly nodding his thanks; that had indeed been a show of cavalry in the nick of time. For her part, Jessica found herself producing a grateful smile; here was an agent who had left only last night to sabotage Anansi, and here he was now, alive and well. That was certainly something to be thankful for.

"Let's get you home, Agent Link."

* * *

**Exoria File #013  
Second Continental War**

Human dominion over the Death Mountains ensured the industrialization of Gerudo, Hyrule, and Valent; the natural resources found underneath the mountain range at the center of the continent provided the tools of. By the mid fourteenth century, however, border disputes amongst the nations became common where the Death Mountains were concerned, and the issue was not helped by constant conflicts, many of them fatal and violent, between the security forces of each nation's respective trade consortiums, especially those of Hyrule and Valent, attempting to expand their operations and protect their assets. Tensions remained high for a century until, in 1449 a.s.r., an extensive sabotage effort halts forty percent of all mining operations in the area. In retaliation for what was perceived as an act of war, and faced with an economic and industrial crisis, all three nations engages in a furious three-way war for six years, spreading beyond the mere confines of the Death Mountains and eventually hitting all parts of the borders shared amongst the three nations. Valent initially had the upper hand for three years, but stiffening Hylian and Gerudo defenses and counterattacks eventually caused the war to enter a stalemate. By 1453 a.s.r., a massive Hylian counteroffensive campaign allowed Hyrule to occupy practically half of the entire Death Mountains. After concluding that it was no longer profitable to continue waging the war over natural resources, all three nations eventually agreed to a ceasefire, leading to the Treaty of Newberg that ended in the war in 1455 a.s.r. with an informal Hylian victory due to its control over the majority of the Death Mountains and its natural resources. Considered to be the most devastating war ever experienced on the continent, the Second Continental War was responsible for the deaths of at least twenty-five million by 1455 a.s.r.

* * *

Author's Note: Contrary to what many might think, writers fall into bouts of depression as well. A few articles of business have effectively thrown a wrench into my gears, so I apologize if this chapter wasn't quite on par with previous installments. Not to mention my aforementioned difficulties with combat scenes, especially with boss battles; I hope I'll be able to make up for this soon. I am, at the moment, trying to revitalize myself with viewings of various comedy anime, including those that feature traps, cute little monsters, and impossibly skimpy maid uniforms. No, I'm not entirely sure what I'm watching, but I'm fairly certain that it's relatively normal for your usual anime fare.

On a more serious note, this effectively wraps up the Anansi storyarc. I admit that I wrote most of this chapter while listening to the track "Escape from Fortress" from the _Metal Gear Solid 3 Snake Eater_ soundtrack; for those not familiar with it, it involves the protagonist, Naked Snake, riding on a motorcycle while being chased by – you guessed it – a massive nuclear missile-launching tank. _Shadow of the Colossus_ also proved to be an unexpected inspiration here. We still have more dungeons to go before the halfway point of the story, so I'll see if I can't get more development in until then. The Jormungand storyarc will actually be fairly difficult to write – at least for me – so I'm afraid I can't promise much in terms of alacrity. If it's any comfort, though, I've been jumping between writing Chapter Twelve and Thirteen; Chapter Thirteen is actually around thirty percent complete, so it shouldn't take too long for the next update. Then, again, that's what I said _last_ time, and we all know how well alacrity works with me.

And onto the bad news: The chapters after Thirteen – if not Thirteen itself – will be slower to update. I would like to inform everyone that I have started my last semester of college, and it will be a busy experience. Obviously, my graduation is at stake here, so I'm fully aware where my priorities are. I'm not saying that I'm abandoning this project – certainly not yet – but the speed at which I update chapters may become…atrocious. Please bear with me on that.

Now, if we may, let's move onto what I have to say to some reviews. There's quite a bit to address this time around.

A Curious Stranger: _All right! Nice to see you keep the tradition of having Link find a weapon for every dungeon. Kind of curious to see what you'll do for his other items. You seem to have found analogues for his key weapons already. Heh, maybe some form of Laser for his Lantern?_

_I have to say I was disappointed that Durandara didn't chime in with a tone to alert Link of something when he got the sniper rifle and hookshot though. A little way to lean on the fourth wall missed._

_Now then, I'm going to guess that Jormungand will be some form of Nuclear Submarine due to its myth status as the World Serpent beneath the seas and Quetzacoatl will be a flying super fortress. Maybe with some form of weather manipulation to take advantage of its connection to the sun and rain? Of course, you could very well surprise me since Anansi was a trickster god, but the only thing resembling it are its legs. I am surprised that you didn't go with Roc, Behemoth, and Leviathan for the three themes of Air, Land, and Water though. Ah well, keeps this interesting I'll say that much._

_Now for some guessing. I have the oddest feeling that Link is heir to the Valentine Throne. He uses a Gunsword, a weapon rarely used in Hyrule but common in Valentine, Valentine seems to be using the Triforce of Courage as a base compared to Hyrule's Wisdom and the Gerudo Nation's Power. And if Valent had a young heir, it makes sense for Hyrule to have gotten a heir to compete and keep the balance stable. And it gives motive for the coup if the younger brother felt that his position as heir was troubled. Link could have been lost during the coup or something. Of course, that leaves the question of what looks like a 6 year time period where we know nothing about Link._

_Well anyway, very enjoyable story and I hope to see more soon. Don't let college let you down, I know I don't... much._

_Looking forward to seeing how Link will take on Anansi. Guessing if you're going to follow the games loosely in terms of play, it'll involve him using the Grapple Gun as a key component of victory._

_Oh, and don't worry too much about spelling errors. I've found that if the narrative is good enough, grammar and spelling mistakes tend to be forgiven very well in such an informal writing environment like this. The beta is just a bonus, though admittedly a substantial one._

Ah-hah; and then I have a new reviewer who gives me substantial feedback. Welcome to _Exoria_, and thank you for your review.

I would like to point out that, if Link ever gets the modern equivalent of a lantern, it'd probably either be a flashlight…or, more likely, a pair of nightvision goggles. Not that he needs it that much, not when his sunglasses act as an optic polarizer. As for Durandara coming in with telling Link that he just "got the hookshot"…well, this is a fairly serious story, and I respect the fourth wall in this regard, so I guess we win some and then we lose some.

In terms of the superweapons, I didn't want to choose names that were too obvious, especially those who were overused. Most of the people who would read _Exoria_ are video gamers, and they probably have played a _Final Fantasy _game along the lines; chances are that they're already too familiar with the names "Behemoth" and "Leviathan", which was why I specifically wanted to avoid it. There's the matter of Quetzalcoatl – I recognize that it's a Guardian Force summon from _Final Fantasy VIII_ – but I had few other options, especially since some of the other logical choices were unavailable, having been taken by the _Ace Combat_ series when it comes to flying superweapons. I will, in the meantime, refrain from revealing the exact nature of the superweapons and what forms they will take, just as I will refrain from speaking on your theory that Link is an heir to Valent. Indeed, you are right when you say that Jormungand is the aquatic boss – and therefore will be annoying – and that Quetzalcoatl is the aerial boss – and therefore will be awesome – but, as for their exact forms…well, you'll just have to keep reading.

Type-00: _Hey, Link got a Hookshot! That normally doesn't happen for at least a couple of dungeons. It's nice to see that Operation: Blow Up Anansi Without Fighting It failed spectacularly. Zelda just wouldn't be the same without epic boss battles. Of course, the sheer badassery of taking down a machine that devastates entire armies is going to be tough to top, so you'll have to do a spectacular job with further Boss Battles. I'm really interested in seeing how Link will take it down when restricted to his current gear._

_Hm... I'm interested to see if Link will return to base after this, or if he'll remain in occupied territory, or even move into the heart of Valent to acquire data about the remaining superweapons. Either option is viable, since RTB gives us some more character interaction and a better idea about how the war is going, but going into Valent has the option of humanizing the Valentine people, instead of having them as faceless enemies._

_Now that I think about it, why haven't we heard anything about the other two superweapons? Sure, Valent has air superiority at this point, so their aerial superweapon doesn't have much use right now, but given how Hyrule's navy is giving Valent some trouble, you'd think they would have made use of it to eliminate the problem. I suppose that naval forces aren't too much of a concern, given how all three powers are on the same landmass, but evil Overlord Rule 40 states that you should use a superweapon as early and often as possible._

_I'm curious to see how personal relationships will develop over the course of Link's adventures. High tension situations tend to form emotional ties quickly, and there are plenty of options available. It would be really interesting if Link ended up forming a connection with a Valentine soldier in an effort to maintain his cover or bypass security checkpoints. Heck, that would be a great opportunity to create a rival/dragon character for the endgame._

_Speaking of endgame, how far have you panned this out? Do you have the entire thing laid out, plans for several upcoming chapters, or just flying by the seat of your pants? Each option has its benefits, and I'm curious to your writing preferences._

Link will RTB following the Anansi battle – he has no orders towards doing anything towards Jormungand or Quetzalcoatl at the moment, and he wouldn't know where to look even if he wanted to – but I do intend on humanizing Valent; you'll see this quite explicitly in Chapter Thirteen, which will be coming along soon. Therefore, I take the third option: Doing both character development and revealing more on Valent. In fact, since you're mentioning Valentine characters, I would also note that there will be three important Valentine characters being revealed in Chapter Thirteen; I'm not elaborating what role they'll play for now, but it shouldn't take too long for Chapter Thirteen to roll around, so stay tuned. In terms of personal relationships, you've probably noticed that Link has been building certain "relationships" with Zelda (of course), Jessica, and Leonore.

...Yes, the relationship with Leonore is _professional_. Mind, gutter, out.

Speaking of Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl, I will remind you that Jormungand would logically be deployed against the Hylian navy – Gerudo does not fare well in this department – and communication with Hylian forces is at its lowest ebbs at the moment. Quetzalcoatl is, unsurprisingly, regulated to the rear lines at the moment as a failsafe; with Anansi and Jormungand tearing into both Hyrule and Gerudo, the Valentine National Defense Committee believes that it's best not to put all their eggs in one basket and are keeping Quetzalcoatl back for now. So, yes, Valent is using its superweapons as early as possible, but they're also playing it safe. One never knows when a lone saboteur is going to sneak in to sabotage your ace-in-the-hole, after all. Their strategy, for the most part, is a pure offensive…which will be justified in the future, I assure you.

In terms of how far I've planned things, I can safely say that about seventy-five percent of the story has been planned out well in advance, and there's another five percent are last-minute surprises that I manage to work in. This seventy-five percent includes practically everything from the prologue to the mid-point of the story (which will included a very important revelation), how the story ends, and all the backstory. After the reveal and its aftermath - which is planned – there's a point where I'll have to start making things up on the fly up until the endgame, which is also planned.

Per usual, thank you for your kind patronage.

Watashiwa-Nanashi: _This is amazing. A "modern" Zelda fic that manages to capture the feel of the Zelda narrative while inserting the modern twists that make it your story... an impressive feet. You've made the Urban Legend of Zelda. (Look that one up on TvTropes!)_

_Gushing aside, I have two issues with the story, both somewhat minor. The first is a literary criticism: you have a tendency to use many bit characters. This is well and good, as NPCs add life to any story, videogame or otherwise. Problem is, you also name characters who don't matter, like the soldiers killed capturing the images of the giant spiderbot, or the Gerudo doctor who first treats Zelda on their arrival. A secret: characters who don't matter...don't matter. Keeping track of characters is by no means difficult, but everytime you break to describe a minor character who will either die or never show up again, you've made things harder for yourself (who has to write the descriptions) and us readers (who frankly don't give a damn about General Molena or Soldier Betsy Ross who just got blown to pieces by a giant spider. (Note: Characters made up by me). This is sometimes called the Law of Conservation of Detail._

_Er. Sorry if that comes off harsh, but what I'm trying to say is that you've already set up a wonderfully deep world to expand, and that not every detail you add actually adds to the setting or story._

_My second issue is with your naming scheme for the weapons. As much as I adore mythology, the names don't work in a Zelda story. Why? Because those three names are significant to us because of OUR history, our legends and myths. Not Hyrule's. Your fic is set in Hyrule, albeit thousands of years after the games, not on Earth, or anywhere connected to it. You've shown that people remember the Hero of Time, probably one or two of his other incarnations as well, even in corrupted form._

_Thus, you should name the mecha after significant myths of THEIR world, not ours. Anansi is Gohma, Jormungandr is Gyorg (from Majora's Mask) and Quetzacoatl could be Argorok._

_Now, if there's a reason for the names in the story, like the technology coming from our world and into theirs (which would be a huge disappointment), then well and good. But there's a lot to play with in Zelda, and not making use of it is near criminal._

_On a different note, I'm looking forward to seeing what happens after all three Valentine machines are down. That's usually when these stories are Hijacked By Ganon, no?_

_Keep up the good work!_

Look the trope up, I did. The definition was not what I expected, but it was still a rather entertaining read, and I amused myself by finding a link to _Exoria_ on that page.

Thank you for the very comprehensive review, and please do not think your criticism is too harsh; your points are certainly valid and thought-out, and a writer can always make use of how others feel one can improve.

To answer your first point, I will have to put up my defense; my giving names to seemingly random NPCs is part of my writing style. On one hand, it's convenient; this is a story based on modern warfare, and that will immediately entail a large number of soldiers fighting at a front. I cannot always keep the camera on Link, and there will be times where I will have to portray large groups of people, often in action, even if they only appear for one scene. There's only so far you can go before the repeated usage of "the first soldier" or "the second soldier" or "the third soldier" and so on gets annoying and repetitive. Furthermore, some of the NPCs might be, as TV Tropes puts it, Chekhov's Gunmen; the individuals that appear for only a quick scene or two may eventually actually be someone important. It would be rather conspicuous, therefore, if a certain NPC is suddenly given the name "Soldier Betsy Ross" when everyone else is nameless, and the reader would immediately be alerted to the fact that Soldier Betsy Ross is probably somehow important. I like my surprises. That should be enough to tell you that, no, you shouldn't ask who those Chekhov's Gunmen are. Those are my secrets.

I admit I have no real defense for your second point. No, Nintendo has never seriously taken mythological references into account when naming _Zelda_ bosses, and, no, _Exoria_ has absolutely nothing to do with our world. My choice of naming them after our own mythological creatures is largely based on my own preference for such, which is, admittedly, influenced by the fact that I, in complete honesty, have yet to play a significant number of _Legend of Zelda_ games. Unfortunately, I fear that a retcon may be too late at this point, so the names Anansi, Jormungand, and Quetzalcoatl will have to stay. Given the nature of the timeline, however, it would be very heavily unlikely that the names of the _Zelda_ bosses have survived the ages. Even belief in one of the Golden Goddesses, Din, has been mutated beyond its original incarnation, being worshipped by those of Gerudo as Dinah, the sole goddess of the true faith and creator of the universe. If they cannot even get Din right, it's extremely unlikely that they'd get other names right. I could've made up names on my own, yes, but I like my mythology.

On a whim, let me throw a bone out there, a bit of a tease. Historical records have not survived _nearly_ as well in the world of _Exoria_ as it has in real life. Therefore, a great number of archeological or historical evidence regarding previous civilization is scarce, if not completely non-existent. I won't say _why_, but the answer is actually in the format of the calendar of _Exoria_, a.s.r. Yes, "a.s.r." stands for something. No, I'm not saying what it means yet. Curiously, while the people of _Exoria_ know what a.s.r. stands for, just as we know what BC/BCE and AD/CE stands for, they don't actually know the true meaning behind the name…and not because a.s.r. is Latin.

As for what happens after the three superweapons are destroyed…well, I think you all know me well enough to know that I like keeping my secrets.

Again, thank you for the review, and may I continue to meet or exceed your expectations.

Banjo2E: _I've had this story sitting at the prologue in my Firefox permasession for the better part of a month now, and I have to say, I wish I'd started it earlier. The entire thing is excellent._

_This particular chapter was pretty cool. The dungeon was a bit more Forsaken Fortress than anything else, but for your setting that's not bad at all. I'm not entirely certain about the entire massive explosion thing, though. How could the fire shoot through the pipes if there's no air in them? Or is the system so inefficient that they let oxygen in the tubes?_

_I am going to love the Anansi battle. If it's anything like Ghost Train from Final Fantasy VI I am going to be very satisfied. Of course, going by traditional Zelda dungeon-item-kills-boss style, this means we're going to be seeing some hot rebel on AT-AT action. Which is totally cool, go for it._

_Speaking of dungeon items, how's Link going to be carrying them all? There's no magic to explain it away, so unless he leaves stuff behind he'll never get to keep moving. But if he does that he could end up undersupplied later on...I look forward to your solution, even if it is something logic-breaking like a hypercube._

_One last thing: please, PLEASE tell me that Ganondorf (the one we know about, if there's more than one) isn't secretly the villain. All right, I know you can't, but it was a rhetorical demand anyway SO THERE._

_I'm using your prologue to amend my review to chapter eleven. In Exoria File 12, you stated that Anansi is piloted by war criminals. War criminals are enemy soldiers, so why would any sane commander give his most powerful and undefeatable superweapon to people from the enemy who could just use it to run away and reinforce their own army?_

Worried about Hijacked By Ganon? Well, a lot of what you're asking are obviously things I can't answer. I hope this boss battle lived up to your expectations, though. There's a bit of a balance I have to strike between keeping the battles _relatively_ realistic, and also keeping it fast-paced and intense. Emphasis on the "relatively".

The development of the superweapons involved very experimental technologies that came with the inherent risks of…well, I can't quite tell you. Either way, during its experimental stages, it was recognized that there was a good chance that the test pilots for all three superweapons might actually die from the technological experiments. In fact, after Anansi was tested, Valent got a bit overconfident and had official naval personnel act as test pilots for Jormungand; a freak accident vaporized them. Working on Anansi was considered by many to be a "suicide job" at the time; as such, they had war criminals – largely their own soldiers who had been imprisoned for use of excessive force or other related problems – repurposed; in exchange for limited freedom, they'd be the one risking their lives to make sure Anansi works the way it's supposed to. Besides, let's look at this realistically: Where are they going to get their own private army with Anansi? And, all things considered, it's still a military weapon constrained by practical logistics concerns, and still needs to rearm and resupply. Anansi is not invincible, and Valent, the nation that created the weapon, knows of all its weakspots, not to mention its deactivation codes. Loyalty is ensured through the fact that these people have nowhere else to go. The war criminals were kept there largely because they've behaved themselves through a decade of test piloting, and largely because there's no other team more familiar with the system.

Curiously enough, had the Valentine brass asked for volunteers, they would've gotten a good number. Most Valentine officers and enlisted are pretty committed to their cause, but the brass have a culture of taking care of their own.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen**

While even veterans of MICO recognized that Director Emi was one of the best leaders to ever have been appointed the head of Gerudo's military intelligence arm, the universal gripe that operatives of MICO had towards their director was that they were never quite able to tell whether or not she was irate or angered. It was, of course, actually less of a gripe than it was a whispered complaint, nervous realization that Emi's perpetual scowl on her face made it near impossible to discern whether or not she was in a bad mood, thus making it that much more difficult to figure out if treading softly around her became a necessity. The scars across the left side of her face that twisted her frown even further and the harsh voice from the bomb that also claimed her eye certainly did not help matters any.

The two MICO officers who flanked Emi as she made her way to the helipads of Fort Garuda, however – the three of them having been holed up deep in Fort Garuda with their director in an hours-long conference with the majority of the Armed Defense Staff before Emi received a message on her PDA late into the strategy meeting – were fairly certain, even if Emi's expression now was unchanged from her expression on any other day, of one thing.

Emi was _pissed_.

By the time the trio of MICO officers had marched out from the arch that transformed from the interior of Fort Garuda to the open-air passageway leading to the helipad, the skies had turned into a cool, bluish hue; rays of the sun were peeking out from beyond distant peaks, indicating at a passage from dawn to morning. Their timing couldn't have been better; already, buffering winds were assailing their approach, sent their way by the massive single rotor of a single Gerudo military transport helicopter beginning to land on the helipad. Emi noticed that her Hylian counterpart, Director Leonore, was somehow already waiting at the helipad, offering a tired smile to the Gerudo director as her entourage approached.

Somehow, the MICO aides had the impression that Emi seeing Leonore here only made their superior that much more annoyed.

The wheels of the helicopter finally touched down on the helipad, and the rear hatch opened; as expected, Major Jessica stepped out from the helicopter, seemingly moving at a brisk pace…but stopped mid-step as her eyes adjusted from the darkness of the helicopter to the morning light of Garuda…and found herself standing a few scant meters away from her superior, who seemed – if months of working with her were any indicator – rather upset. Or pissed.

Jessica's face flushed red; she somehow had a feeling that she was in deep trouble.

"Major," Emi's voice was at its usual scowl, a part of her voice that the car bomb that also claimed her left eye permanently changed six years ago, but there was a coldness to it that made Jessica shiver against her will. For her part, Emi decided to ignore the young man who emerged from the helicopter next, dressed in the green fatigues of Valentine special forces. "You had very strict orders to remain with Princess Zelda, and yet you chose to assist Agent Link without authorization. I shall have an explanation."

Jessica was clearly too intimidated by the invisible, angry waves emitting from her superior, but Emi soon saw that the major didn't have to as the director's gaze drifted over Jessica's shoulders and saw the remaining ex-passengers of the helicopter. "Major Jessica was with me, Director Emi." Although Emi refused to show it, it was understandable to assume that she was at least somewhat surprised to see Princess Zelda emerge from the helicopter, flanked by Impa and a four-woman Gerudo detachment to see that the Hylians were safe. Her tone was soft, taking on a diplomatic touch that invoked compromise, but not apology, as she stopped a respectful distance away from Emi, her expression carefully placating and neutral. "She assisted Agent Link on my personal request. I apologize if this has put you in a difficult position, but I felt it my responsibility to ensure my agent's return, especially with the accomplishment of his mission."

A salvo of awkward, nervous glances were thrown this way and that by the occupants of the helipad. As both Zelda and Emi locked gazes, Jessica's own gaze seemed to wander periodically between Emi's two aides and the ground, Impa looked between the princess and the director, and the guards around the Hylian delegation exchanged wordless glances. Only Link and Leonore seemed to steadily have their stares locked on Emi, gauging the MICO director's reactions…which, for the most part, were practically nonexistent.

It was finally about five seconds after that Emi finally closed her eye, inhaled; she seemed to be prepared to sigh, but eventually came out surprisingly diplomatic as that desire and motion was squelched. "Your Highness," Emi, too, sounded carefully neutral, the scowl on her face even easing a bit, "I do not presume to be of a position in which I can countermand your decision. You will forgive me for reminding you, however, that Major Jessica's responsibility is to keep you safe, and as is my subordinate, part of that responsibility also falls upon me. On a professional level, I must ask that you keep me informed in the future. On a personal level, I must advise you from venturing so close to the main line of resistance as you did. Think of your responsibilities as crown princess." A few seconds of an appropriate pause passed between them, giving Emi to give a short, cut, abridged version of a Gerudo bow – in Emi's case, a mere nod – before she finished, "If you will excuse me." She spared an expressionless glance to Jessica once – who refused to look up from the ground and stop fidgeting – before finally turned around and returning through the walkway whence she came back to Fort Garuda, her two aides casting their own unreadable glances at Jessica before following suit.

It was potentially an awkward, if not embarrassing, situation for Jessica, and, thankfully, the four Hylians all had enough tact to give Jessica a few seconds to stay rooted where she was, allowing for an appreciable distance to be established between their own party and Emi's; after all, it was understood that Zelda herself was at fault for Jessica's impossible predicament. This seemed to be exactly what Jessica needed as, just as Emi passed through the archway that led back into Fort Garuda, she finally turned to face Princess Zelda, her most professional, expressionless game face on, and quickly gestured back into Fort Garuda. "This way, please, your Highness," she said, and quickly led the four Hylians and their armed escort back into Fort Garuda as well.

"Well," Impa muttered, throwing a testy glance in the general direction of where Emi had disappeared down as soon as they reached the interior of the fort, her red eyes catching onto the MICO entourage turning down a corner and out of sight, "That wasn't very subtle."

Leonore managed a bit of a smile – almost bitter in nature – at that. "I'm willing to give her the credit for trying," she remarked coolly. "Director Emi is not known as the type of person to mince words. You should've seen her when she was an honorary page some forty years ago." Her brow furrowed into the slightest of frowns as she followed Impa's glance towards where Emi had gone, muttered curiously, mostly to herself, "Rather unusual for her to show up personally, though."

Link was to wonder exactly what Leonore meant by those words, but his train of thought was interrupted as Zelda, beside him, suddenly began to speak softly to Jessica, her voice much more apologetic than before, an attribute that Link noticed with leaders when they wanted to be seen as sympathetic to the masses, the rank and file. "I apologize for putting you in such an impossible position, major," said Zelda. "I assure you that I will use whatever means possible to make it clear that the responsibility for such a decision was mine alone, and you were just carrying out your orders to manage my security detail."

Shaking her head, Jessica was quick to reply, "Thank you, your Highness, but I do not believe that is necessary. I'm certain the director is most aware of the events that had transpired." That said, however, she still regretted not having actually sent a message to Emi prior to Princess Zelda learning that Anansi had indeed been destroyed, that Link had sent code requesting immediate extraction, and insisted that she be there to pick the Hylian infiltrator up as well. In that, Jessica actually admired the princess' bravery and dedication to her men, knowing that she would inspire much loyalty and be hard to topple. But her headstrong behavior _did_ put her in a bit of a predicament, considering that Jessica, like most MICO officers, knew just how much Emi hated to be interrupted when in a meeting. Jessica had personally hoped that the conference would last much longer – the memos seemed to indicate so – and that she'd be back with Link in time to personally provide Emi with an explanation before the director ever noticed anything had happened. That said, though, news of Anansi's destruction probably threw a wrench in those gears.

On that note, Jessica noted rather ruefully as she led the Hylians into the elevators taking them to the diplomatic suites that Link returned to such a cold reception…or, more accurately, _no_ reception. The major knew, of course, that such was necessary; the sabotage of Anansi was an extremely classified operation, and the fewer the number of people who knew just who destroyed Anansi there were, the safer Link would be. Still, Jessica couldn't help but feel that it was unfair that the young agent who had risked life and limb pulling off the impossible was immediately back to protecting his sovereign instead of receiving the hero's welcome that he deserved. Jessica was not blind; she knew of Gerudo's military accomplishments mere hours after the destruction of Anansi.

The ring of the elevator's bell, indicating that they had arrived on the floor of the diplomatic suites, brought Jessica out of her reverie. "Per usual," Jessica said as soon as she had opened the doors to Zelda's suite for the princess to enter several seconds later, "I will be here should you ever require my assistance, your Highness."

"Thank you as always, major," Zelda responded with a kind, regal nod of her head, entering the room followed by Impa and Leonore. Link, who had stepped in first to ensure that the suite was safe, had remained at the doors, and prepared to nod his goodbye to Jessica, but his eyes caught a strange look of anxiety on the major's face, and he suddenly realized that she seemed to still have something to say.

"Um," she fidgeted just slightly just beyond the doorway, her visage safely obscured from the other Hylians by Link. "I know this is entirely inadequate, but…" Jessica took a deep breath, then managed to quietly exhale, "Those of us who know that you were the one who destroyed Anansi are extremely grateful of your accomplishment, even if we're not allowed to talk about it. That includes myself." She closed her eyes again, expelled a sigh of breath, then smiled bashfully; it seemed as if she had managed to relieve herself of some weight. "I thought you should know."

A shrug from Link, accompanied by a ghost of the sparest of smiles, had a clear flavor of "think nothing of it".

Excusing herself, Jessica swiftly left the scene, leaving the Hylians to themselves, and Link closed the door behind her. Almost as if the closing of the door flipped some kind of switch, he suddenly felt truly exhausted, the weight of the hours he had spent in the field under incredible pressure hitting him all at once. Much of that fatigue had been aggravated by his own sense of duty when he realized that Princess Zelda had personally come to the Hylian-Gerudo border to extract him – Link considered that to be a strategically unsound move, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless – and saw to it that he remained awake to ensure his sovereign's safety.

It didn't seem as if he was going to catch a break anytime soon, however; no sooner had he locked the door and turned around to face the room, he discovered that Leonore had actually not removed herself far from the suite's entrance – as opposed to Zelda and Impa, who had already moved to the sofas and tables where a plethora of documents and paperwork were littered – and while she did not seem upset, her expression displayed slight signs of disapproval. "What did I tell you about you and that major?" she asked evenly.

Link suppressed a frown, mainly that of confusion, and settled instead of a casual tilt of his head as an interrogative. He was well-versed enough in spycraft to understand Leonore's likely concerns, that intelligence agencies were incredibly jealous of their assets and information; it was not entirely unlikely that Jessica had secret orders to gather any signs or clues from the Hylians and report them up the MICO chain of command. Still, Leonore seemed almost unnecessarily defensive; this time, Jessica was only expressing her gratitude.

Leonore sighed, waved a hand dismissively as she began to move towards Zelda and Impa, who clearly were preparing for another meeting. "Be careful of what you're getting yourself into," was all the Director of Joint Intelligence decided to say this time. "Desert women can be possessive."

Choosing to pretend that he didn't understand what that could possibly mean, Link begrudgingly followed his superior to where Zelda and Impa were gathered.

Link fully intended to stand at attention as the ladies took their seat – he was fully aware of the fact that he was still dress in green Valentine fatigues and how strange the scene would potentially seem to the uninformed – but he had only prepared to move to the side when Zelda suddenly spoke, "Link, please have a seat as well." Then, realizing the agent may attempt to shrug off the request out of a sense of duty, added with a gentle smile, "That is an order."

It wasn't just a matter of respect that Link chose to stand; part of him was actually quite worried that he would easily fall asleep from exhaustion the moment he sat down. Still, he knew better than to refuse such an order from Zelda; despite some hesitation, he settled himself into one of the couches surrounding the low table situated in the circle of sofas. There was little in terms of ulterior motive that the crown princess of Hyrule had her bodyguard settle himself down on a seat. She, too, recognized just how much effort and energy Agent Link had put into the previous mission; had it not been for a nagging suspicion that he would've been better off being present for the debrief – with only the four of them in Fort Garuda, he was as close to a member of her wartime cabinet as anyone else now – Zelda would've sent the Joint Intelligence agent on a mandatory rest by now. He deserved so much more than that, but it was as much as she could offer in such dire times.

Sometimes, Zelda wondered if loyalty could be a serious vice.

"I've made Impa and Leonore aware of her existence shortly before you left," the princess said as soon as Link was seated, "but I believe it is prudent for them to meet Durandara for the first time."

Link frowned, hesitated; did the other three not forget the possibility that the rooms were likely to be under secret surveillance?

Catching the agent's expression, Impa gave an amused but kindly smile of reassurance. "Director Leonore has reason to believe that these suites are, in fact, untapped, and that we have a measure of security amongst ourselves in this room."

That incurred a nod from Zelda. "They're taking us on good faith," she remarked, although it was unclear exactly who she was saying such to.

"I would recommend moving away from the mindset of emulating their diplomatic behavior, your Highness, if that is what you're thinking," Leonore suddenly added, and there was a touch of iron in what would've otherwise been a plainly serene voice. "Just because they're not doing it doesn't mean we shouldn't."

Zelda wasn't sure she liked _Leonore's_ mindset. If anything, it seemed to further cement her quiet, lingering belief that the diplomatic suites in Hyrule City _were_ bugged after all. Still, she decided that was a topic that could be handled with some delicacy another time; turning to Link, she merely nodded. "Durandara, please."

One cue, light began to gather on the table before them, the glowing silhouette of a slender woman slowly materializing into a quarter-meter-tall hologram. The look on Durandara's face as she appeared clearly seemed rather pleased at the curious, if not impressed, looks on Impa and Leonore; the artificial intelligence was clearly quite happy to be at the center of attention.

"Keeping me shut up for hours on an IFV, a helicopter, and an airplane is particularly grating on the nerves of someone who can perform several thousand mathematical calculations in a single second," Durandara quipped, although she didn't seem particularly upset about it. "Felt like several lifetimes instead." That said, her gaze swung between Impa and Leonore, and provided a cheery smile that defied the atmosphere and emotions that had managed to take hold of Fort Garuda in the past week. "Palace Chief of Staff Impa and Director of Joint Intelligence Leonore. A pleasure to meet you two at last."

Impa clearly looked like she was restraining herself from poking Durandara with a figure, if only to see what it felt like to touch a hologram. "So Doctor Hal _did_ finish it time," she murmured, marveled. Leonore looked similarly impressed, but did not speak.

"I consider it a small blessing in the face of disaster," Zelda conceded, although she wondered if Leonore's silence was some sort of sign that the DJI had already been aware, on some level, of Project Durandara. "I know she was meant to help with staff decisions, but I thought it more prudent to have her assist Link with combat operations at the time."

"No arguments here," Impa smiled tiredly. "I'm sure she must've been in invaluable asset for Agent Link."

Link couldn't agree more with that statement. Durandara herself seemed to be basking herself in pride.

"I've read the copy of the debriefing you've compiled and sent to me on the PDA while we were returning to Garuda," the crown princess of Hyrule noted, and it was only then that Link realized why Zelda had suddenly been reading something on her handheld computer while on the flight back to Samani Airbase. It was something that Durandara could've easily whispered into Link's ear, so he could only assume that the AI either liked her surprises, or had directives to keep certain secrets. "Thank you; it was very extensive." The princess slid a side glance along towards Link, noting that the details of the mission in the briefing greatly increased her respect and amazement at his competence, courage…and potential probability-bending power that seemed to ensure that luck was on his side. "There is, however, one particular item in the briefing that I must discuss with you."

Durandara's face turned serious, her small, holographic head nodding instantly in understanding. A snap of her fingers – a purely aesthetic motion – brought forth a larger hologram, a video screen, that floated right above her. Link stiffened as he recognized the recording that was played, the mad chase between himself and Anansi in the ruins of October City. Durandara fast-forwarded the recording to the part where Link successfully detached one of Anansi's legs, sending the spider tank tripping out of control into the Alexis Building.

"Upon losing one of its legs," Durandara explained, gesturing at the video with an arm while sections of the recording blinked where she needed to direct attention towards, "Anansi was unable to control its inertia due to its forward movement at approximately two hundred and eight-three kilometers per hour. It proceeded to attempt deceleration maneuvers for seventy-two meters until it crashed into the Alexis Building at two hundred and nineteen kilometers per hour. The Alexis Building is…" the hologram stopped, then, realizing a bit of a mistake, corrected herself, surprisingly devoid of grin, "…_was_ October City's thirty-fourth tallest building, standing at one hundred and twenty-eight meters, possessing thirty-one stories." The recording resumed at slow motion as Anansi crashed uncontrollably through the high-rise. "The force was sufficient to pulverize both the first wall and the ground-level supports that kept the Alexis Building upright. With only three legs and its main body lodged into the Alexis Building, Anansi was unable to remove itself from the structure as it collapsed." Moving into normal playing speed, the video then showed the collapse of the Alexis Building. "Approximately twenty kilotons of steel, concrete, and glass proceeded to assail Anansi, displacing approximately thirteen gigajoules onto the armored walker, which I suspect severely compromised its structural integrity following the damage it sustained from the October City International Airport explosion."

Link took a quick look around to survey the situation; it was clear that Durandara was going through the recording for Impa and Leonore's benefit, but now Zelda seemed almost a bit impatient. The agent sympathized a bit, knowing rather well how much the artificial intelligence enjoyed showing off.

"Several seconds after the collapse of the Alexis Building, a spike in energy readings indicated at a high-power reaction at Anansi's core." A flash from the video, which turned the screen entirely white, indicated at the explosion; the silhouettes of buildings as they were caught in the growing sphere of light were barely discernible even after Durandara polarized the video. "The machine then promptly…" her holographic lips twitched once, as if realizing that she didn't have an extremely adequate word at hand that wouldn't go over the heads of her audience, "…_exploded_, displacing a large amount of energy that evaporated a significant portion of October City." The video screen dissipated, fading out from existence, replaced by what seemed to be a three-dimensional map of October City; what was immediately noticeable was the very obvious empty circle on the map, clearly where Anansi's explosion had occurred. "The blast radius was approximately four hundred and eighty-seven meters in a near-perfect circle. The ground was able to withstand a significant portion of the heat; at its apex, the crater is only twenty-one meters deep."

Incredulity did not escape Impa's voice as she stared at Durandara. "_Only_ twenty-one meters?"

Her elbows on her knees, Zelda's fingers pressed together contemplatively as she leaned forward from where she was sitting, gloved hands against her lips. "We've been dealing with a lot of questions regarding energy lately," she murmured quietly, the crease on her brow indicating at her troubled mood. "But now it seems the realm of our speculation must extend beyond what new engines Valent has managed to develop and envelop what new technologies Valent has managed to discover."

Impa blinked. "I'm not sure I understand," she conceded. Link sympathized; he, too, was clueless as to how the crown princess managed to come upon that conclusion. On the other hand, impassive was the expression that adorned Leonore's face, betraying not her understanding – or lack thereof – of Zelda's analysis.

"That Anansi actually exploded from what I suspect to be instability in its reactor," Durandara deigned to provide an explanation, "indicates that we must now concede the possibility that Valent has access to extraconventional technologies that are currently beyond the standards of even what we would otherwise term 'theoretical physics'."

It was fairly clear that such an answer did not help any, at least not where Link and Impa were concerned. "Is a military combat vehicle exploding after being severely damaged not somehow…normal?"

"Vehicles don't violently explode when damaged like in the movies," Durandara huffed impatiently, almost scolding in nature, her hands on her hips. "The explosions one sees in modern media are the result of the combustion of the fuel within the vehicle, not some kind of engineering destabilization within the machines. Engines certainly don't detonate like a landmine when damaged, and neither do chemical reactors. And I can assure you, even _if_ Valent somehow managed to develop and create a nuclear reactor, it's theoretically impossible to detonate it, so we can rule that out. The point of having a reactor in the first place is to ensure it doesn't go up in a massive show of pyrotechnics. The petroleum and weapons that Anansi _may_ have been carrying would not have produced such an explosion either. It is more plausible to assume that Anansi was somehow powered by some kind of very efficient high-energy pulse device."

"What makes you come to such a conclusion, Durandara?" Zelda shifted her attention back to Durandara.

Again, Durandara rematerialized the video recording she had dismissed earlier, moving to the frame capturing the "explosion" in its early stages and polarizing the image. "The explosion is clearly less thermobaric in nature, and resembles more of a high-energy discharge," she explained, and, for a good measure, also conjured a separate image of what Link instantly recognized as the fuel explosion at the October City International Airport. The differences were clear enough; the latter looked more like a conventional flaming explosion as seen in far too many action films, while the former looked more like someone had taken a picture of an oversized lightbulb. "By temperature alone, I can make a guess that this resembles a plasma reaction than a chemical one."

Lips were pressed together into a thin line of concentrated contemplation on Zelda's face. "Your hypothesis of a high-energy pulse device would also suggest that its destruction is at least partially responsible for the sudden decrease in electronic interference."

"That is correct. Theoretically, the energy output would generate massive waves of electromagnetism that make communications on any but particular wavelengths difficult. There are thousands of variables to consider."

That statement caused Impa to suddenly adopt a thoughtful, bright expression. "Which means if we destroy Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl as well," she said with slow deliberation, "it's very likely we can establish a line of communication to all of our forces and get a clear picture of what's going on." It seemed like a hopeful statement.

Perhaps curiously to the Hylian chief of staff, however, Zelda shook her head in equally slow deliberation. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she murmured, and the more attentive noted that her gaze remained curiously glued to the table before her. "That we've managed to destroy Anansi is already a miracle unto itself." She expelled a deep breath, slowly leaned back against the sofa from where she had contemplatively leaned forward in thought. "Let's not ask for too much." In truth, Zelda also knew exactly where Impa's line of thought would go: Sending Link back into the fray. At the moment, the Joint Intelligence agent was the only thing in their present, private arsenal that was a proven way to destroy a Valentine superweapon. She knew that Impa meant well and her unspoken suggestion was strategically sound, but Zelda, having already been briefed on the details of the process in which Link hunted down and destroyed Anansi, didn't think she could possibly ask so much from Link like this.

Covertly sending a glance Leonore's way, Zelda noted that the DJI did not seem to have any particular reaction towards her statement; as always, the crown princess chose to believe that Leonore knew what she was trying to get at, and was keeping on her poker face.

She just as quickly dismissed the thought; the princess did not have the luxury to begin second-guessing the motives of her subordinates now. "Durandara," she asked of the AI, "I'd like your analysis on your personal analysis on this explosion."

"I've had very little data to work on," admitted Durandara. "From what I could tell, however, it was a contained energy discharge as opposed to an explosion in the strictest sense. Given the rapid deterioration and evaporation of everything in its blast zone, however, the yield was at least thirty-five terajoules. Note that the previous record for greatest yield of single manmade explosions was held by a test detonation of the ABU-43/A on November 31, 1504, at fifty-one point eight gigajoules." Footage of what Link assumed to be the test detonation of an ABU-43/A was played, exploding in a large fireball that somehow seemed unimpressive…probably because he was instinctively comparing it with the detonations in October City. "The energy discharged from the Anansi detonation was at least six hundred and sixty-three times more potent than an ABU-43/A."

That was of no real surprise, but the exponentially greater value put grimly alarmed look on the room's occupants; even Link's jaw felt like it tightened slightly. Whatever energy reaction took place inside Anansi, it produced a power six hundred and sixty-three times more powerful than the most devastating warhead the Hylian army had in its arsenal.

"I hypothesize that the discharge was limited in range by a combination of an electromagnetic containment field and possible variations of Maxwell's equations," the holographic lady continued. "If anything, this may very well explain how Anansi's movements were sustained. An electromagnetic field may otherwise alleviate much of the stress that Anansi's structural frame must experience from having such a massive size. Normal materials would not be able to support the superweapon's height and weight, not to mention speed."

"It's beginning to sound more like magic than science," Impa murmured, closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose, expressing both disbelief and fatigue with that small gesture. Link didn't have a particular opinion towards such, but personally found the statement to be somewhat ironic, considering that it was made before her superior; Zelda herself was a practitioner of what may very well be considered magic.

"This does not bode well for us," Leonore mused quietly. "That Valent has developed this technology effectively means that they have the capability of developing much more than just superweapons. We have solid intelligence on only three superweapons so far; I would hate to fathom just what else they have."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Durandara interrupted, crossing her arms. "The destruction of Anansi coincided with a twenty-nine percent decrease in ECM levels. Unless Valent has decided not to activate any superweapons they may have in reserve, this roughly corresponds to only three or four superweapons powered with such technology. It's a theory I seriously doubt; I would imagine the Valentine military to want to activate and utilize whatever assets they have for this kind of war."

Sighing, Zelda closed her eyes, slumping against her seat as she tilted her head back and over the back of her couch. Exhaustion was catching up once more; she'd have to follow Impa and Doctor Taylor's recommendation on resting once more. "Let us hope so," she murmured solemnly, trying to collect her thoughts.

Understandably, Link, Impa, and Leonore silently agreed. If Valent had more than three or four superweapons – or two or three _now_ – this war was going to go downhill very fast.

* * *

Unlike the Haven in Hyrule or Fort Garuda in Gerudo, the Castle in Velvet, Valent, was not by any stretch a "modern" building. First erected seven centuries ago, it had undergone its share of damages, reconstruction, and renovations, but it still retained the archaic air that had remained native to the building since it was first built in the late eighth century. Resembling more of a walled temple than an actual castle or fortress, its critics from the previous administration noted derisively that the building could barely stand up to a column of tanks parading down the street, never mind an enemy attack. It wasn't as if those critics didn't have a point; the ensuing insistence of keeping the building the way it was made developing the gradually expanding underground facilities beneath the Castle a difficult and costly process.

But the armed forces of Valent could spare such costs. The age old buildings was a cultural testament of sorts, a reminder to both the common man and the common soldier of their historical heritage, that the Valentine military evolved out of a culture of knighthood, and theirs was a cultured breed. There was no better place to exemplify this than at the Castle, headquarters of the National Defense Committee, the heart of the Valentine war machine.

Said heart beat strongly within the underground chambers of the Castle, tucked a great many meters below ground, impervious even the strongest weapons found in any Hylian or Gerudo arsenal. An attack on the subterranean section of the Castle would require an infantry attack, and any invaders would have to fight their way through the highly-trained Home Guard, the only unit in the Valentine armed forces where normal infantrymen and special forces soldiers trained and operated in cohesion…all while special forces continued to scout for potential recruits and little climbers within the Home Guard.

Subterranean halls connected by corridors, elevators, and staircases were modeled after the Castle above them. One of the most important rooms of the Castle, however, was the grand hall known simply as the Chamber, the official meeting room of the National Defense Committee, where the highest military decisions – short of direct intervention from the king himself – were made. Constructed in the manner of the Castle above ground, the Chamber was elegantly adorned and decorated; tradition certainly did have its perks within marble halls. A circular table, the panel of wood running in a circumference and leaving its middle open for a rotating projector, was the highlight of the room; the table's circular design reflected the legends of the oldest Valentine knight order, where their members sat at a table with no head to signify the equality amongst its fellow knights. To the sides were three imposingly large statues of the most celebrated Valentine war heroes in its centuries of history: King Raphael I with his halberd, General Lord Akirei of Secundus with his grand spear, Grand Duchess Sieglinde of Rynwall with her gunsword, all watching over the future of Valent's military. His Royal Highness King Tacitus had yet to find a place in marble form in this hall…but, if this war was to go his way, it would not be long before a fourth statue found its way into the Chamber.

The circular table was comprised of eight seats – one of which was reserved for King Tacitus himself but rarely occupied – but, today, only five of them were occupied; one was personally leading naval operations in the oceans north of Hyrule, while another had decided to personally update his Highness on the situation. Although the room was not nearly full, the tension in the room was evident, punctuated all-too-often by bouts of anger from Fleet Admiral Gauthier, who slammed a fist on the table surface in front of him as his other hand angrily pushed aside a small pile of documents and reports, several of which drifted onto the marble floor. "How the hell did they manage to get past so many of our armies at once?" he snarled, fury getting the better of him, the lightly aged lines across his dark face tightening into a mess of ugly creases. "Our forces were supposed to have secured the area! There shouldn't have been any pockets of resistance left, let alone something that could have destroyed Anansi!"

Although she kept a cooler head, General Ingrid of the Valentine Air Force was no less upset, evident by the lit cigar that dangled from her mouth; she had quit smoking a decade and a half ago when she had been promoted to colonel, deciding to set an example when Valent implemented an anti-smoking campaign in 1493 a.s.r., which became an outright ban in 1502 a.s.r. She normally wouldn't dare have herself caught indulging in tobacco, but command had its privileges, times were trying, and – conscious that she was breaking the rules – she knew she would never take this privilege too far. "Anansi was a powerful weapon, but like all armored vehicles, it had its weaknesses. As unlikely as it was, a small team of highly-trained saboteurs could have destroyed it by careful application of weapons on Anansi's weak points." She blew a stream of smoke high into the air. "There's only so much that engineering can do to protect these spots."

"That still doesn't answer how the Hylians _got to Anansi_ in the first place!"

"October City was lightly defended in the first place." This time, it was General Christian of the Valentine Army, also acting as Director of High Command, who spoke, his voice calm and silken, his face expressionless, even as his hands shuffled idly through the stack of reports before him. "Most of our forces were and still are engaged with Hylian forces across the eastern seaboard. Breaching security would not have been too much of a problem, especially not with a trained infiltrator." He pulled a single sheet out from the stack he had been shuffling through. "The latest reports indicate at – and this is a _very_ conservative estimate – nine hundred and eighteen of our own still completely unaccounted for, men who have gone missing without a trace, men who may have died but whose bodies haven't been found or whose deaths had not been witnessed. Seventeen of them are special forces; we can agree that paperwork for them hardly catches up fast enough, so many might be just operating too quickly for bureaucracy to track. Regardless, how hard do you think it could've been for any of our enemies to take one of our uniforms and masquerade as one of us?"

"Finding an infiltrator who can speak Valentine may be difficult, but it is not an impossible task." The men and women that made up the Valentine National Defense Committee swiftly turned their heads to General Constantine of Valentine's special forces, a weathered but exceptionally young – as far as generals in their late thirties came – member of Valent's war pavilion. Although his men was under the purview of the army, his age and years of service ranked lowest compared to the other four individuals in the room, Constantine was recognized as the unofficial and unspoken leader of the National Defense Committee. The committee itself had no official position of leadership and certainly no chairman – the closest thing that came to a leader was his Majesty himself – but Constantine commanded respect through astute decision-making, a keel but pragmatic personality, his influence and political connections, and his ability to take a much more hands-on approach to anyone who may wish to physically disagree with him. When Constantine spoke, people listened. His hands were folded contemplatively beneath a set of intelligent, ruthless, sharp eyes. "The ability for enemy agents to penetrate our lines has long been considered, and it is inevitable. I'm not concerned about our ability to plug the holes against enemy infiltrators. Rather, I'm far more concerned about how the enemy was able to track Anansi to October City at that exact moment. We had Anansi on the move; it only stopped for hours at a time to refit and refuel before moving onto the next priority front."

Christian frowned. "Information on Anansi, Jormungand, and Quetzalcoatl are handled on a closed loop with very extensive encryption codes. The list of people who have access to immediate information on them is very short, and they have been handpicked by his Majesty. I don't think a leak is possible."

"Encryptions mean that they can eventually be decrypted. And his Majesty, too, is human, and therefore fallible."

There were no collective gasps of breath, but the temperature of the room could've easily dropped by a measure of degrees in reflection of the shock hosted by the members of the National Defense Committee; one did not speak of his Majesty in such a way on a whim. "You believe we have a leak?" Ingrid's eyes had tightened into slits.

Constantine leaned back in his chair even as the oversized oak doors to the Chamber opened, and the silhouettes of three individuals made their way into the hall's interior. "I certainly don't believe it to be luck," the general replied before diverting his attention to the new occupants of the Chamber, the three of them stopping in unison before the National Defense Committee just as the doors behind them closed shut. "Someone's tracking our weapons. Increase secrecy around Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl. And have Jormungand on constant deployment; I don't want us being caught off-guard at bases again. We'll work out resupply alternatives later. Resupply submarines are a good idea that I want to look at."

Fleet Admiral Gauthier grunted his affirmative.

All three officers that now stood before the heads of the Valentine military were majors, their rank insignificant compared to the credentials of those who paid them audience. They were dressed impeccably in officer dress uniform, and had the markings to indicate their allegiance with military intelligence. In unison, the three saluted smartly. "Majors Alexandria, Juno, and Steven, reporting as ordered," the officer in the middle identified herself and her colleagues promptly. All three seemed to be in their mid-to-late-twenties.

"Majors," Lieutenant General Dana nodded to them as a means of greeting; a newly instated member of the National Defense Committee following the death of her predecessor due to illness, Dana was still a newcomer to the elite conglomerate, a makeshift appointment from the army, a status she quietly resented due to her being several years older than Constantine, who was somehow still unofficially recognized as a leader of a sort. While still trying to prove herself to be as capable of the other members of the committee, she seemed to have taken something akin to a secretarial role compared to the other generals and admirals. "At ease. Have you familiarized yourselves with your preliminary briefing packets?"

"Yes, ma'am," the three replied in unison after dropping their salute and loosening their stance.

"Then this briefing will commence under the belief that the three of you know that the National Defense Committee has sufficient evidence to believe that Anansi was sabotaged, but have insufficient data to conclude how it was so." Quiet looks were exchanged amongst the members of the committee, silently sharing their wondering as to why Dana was attempting to be so formal and rigid. Gauthier was already looking bored.

"The three of you are closer to the enlisted out in the field," Ingrid spoke, her voice surprisingly gentle and motherly; the general of the Valentine Air Force, having been an ace pilot herself during her prime, was well-known for being something of a mother to her men even after her promotion to the country's command staff. "I'd rather hear it from you than read it from the reports. How is morale holding up?"

"It's still holding, ma'am, but poorly," spoke Major Juno; her hair was at the edge of military regulation, her appearance in pristine form, looking like a model officer. "Our military has been aware of the setbacks experienced in the Gerudo theater of operations, and the current stalemate in the war. There is a widespread worry that, with the loss of Anansi, they have lost a major asset that may prompt a massive counterattack from Hyrule and Gerudo."

"There is little evidence to believe that they are at all aware of the logistics behind the operations of our weapons, however," Major Steven quickly interjected. The youngest occupant in the room, he seemed fresh, pampered, someone who was clearly put into an office at the behest of someone with sufficient power and say in the government. "It's mostly just rambling amongst the enlisted. Despite attempts to quell rumors, however, gossip has become widespread."

Ingrid nodded understandingly. "Is there anything you believe is prudent to say or inform us of before we begin?"

Alexandria's response was quick and concise: "We need to rein in special forces, ma'am."

For those who could afford the breach in discipline, eyes wandered over to General Christian with some tense curiosity at these words. It was not lost on anyone that Alexandria had just asked for tighter checks on special forces in front of the general who led them himself; it would not have been unfair to compare it with a threat to kick the general's royalties. Only Fleet Admiral Gauthier seemed slightly amused at the development. Christian, to his credit, however, remained expressionless, although some could've almost sworn they detected a ghost of a smile from the general. "Explain your reasoning, major," he said stoically.

"Although reports from the ground are still not clear, sir, if we truly had a team of infiltrators sabotaging Anansi, they will likely attempt to masquerade as special forces. Aside from commissioned officers and the command staff, the regulars are far less likely to question them, and they answer to a separate chain of command that can sometimes make on-site accounting difficult. I believe that it may be prudent to balance the special force's effectiveness and accountability by imposing a new set of regulations making it difficult for special forces to sneak by our own forces, but not to the point where we sacrifice all the advantages of their autonomous operating protocols."

Constantine leaned back against his chair, scrutinized Major Alexandria before him. It wasn't until he spoke again that those surrounding him realized that he wasn't _quite_ thinking about the major's analysis. "_Regulars_," he murmured, the volume just loud enough for those in the Chamber to hear it; it carried a slightly amused, if not knowing, tone. "You have a special forces background, don't you, Major Alexandria?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded curtly. "I served as a captain until my transfer to military intelligence."

Nodding, accepting such an answer, the special forces general moved on. "If you can work out a new set of protocols that will make it that much more difficult for the enemy to sneak in as one of us, how long will it take you to work out a draft?"

"I can have it sent to you by tomorrow afternoon, sir," Alexandria assured him. "In print or digital file."

Again, Constantine nodded his head slowly, before tilting his head lazily in Dana's direction. Despite her rising ire, Dana quickly took the cue, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"The loss of Anansi has put us in a worse strategic predicament that we're letting on," the newest appointee to the National Defense Committee spoke, her voice sober and solemn. "It's still highly classified information, but our supply chain on Hyrule's eastern seaboard following the destruction of our assets in October City has taken severe setbacks, and we risk losing all the ground we've managed to cover over the last week. The situation is dire. That our strategy was highly dependent on Anansi, Jormungand, and Quetzalcoatl was never a secret, but we never made it clear just _how_ vital they were to our plans. Their technological advantage was the only factor that allowed us to wage war against both Hyrule and Gerudo at once." She looked at all three intelligence majors sternly in the eye. "We _cannot_ lose Jormungand or Quetzalcoatl."

That was not necessarily news to any of the three intelligence officers, but it did highlight just how important the three of them had suddenly become. They were certain that they did not know _exactly_ how much the three weapons meant to the war effort, however, but they certainly were aware that, on some level, the entire campaign was made possible by Anansi, Jormungand, and Quetzalcoatl; their existence was the sole reason why Valent launched their invasion in the first place. And although they were never briefed on _exactly_ why they were being called into this briefing before the National Defense Committee, all three were astute enough to know that they were looking at a very high possibility of priority reassignment.

"Before you are your briefing packets," Dana gestured to a nearby table with three identical folders, each with likely-identical sets of documents. The three majors, on cue, moved over to retrieve them, quickly flipping through them and skimming the contents while paying attention; the military valued officers and soldiers who could multitask. "I'll cut to the chase and abridge it for you: The three of you have been selected for your exceptional service records and the recommendations of your superiors in military intelligence. You are all thereby being incorporated into the new 1st Special Investigative Unit, which will be formed the moment you step out of this room."

It took discipline for the three majors not to share glances or change their expressions; their suspicions were indeed correct. The military didn't even _have_ a special investigative unit, at least not until now, and it became apparent that a whole new intelligence group was being formed for the benefit of the three of them. The entire situation had taken on a new level of importance.

"The three of you will identify what caused the destruction of Anansi, and prevent it from happening to either Jormungand or Quetzalcoatl. To this end, the three of you are irregulars, and you answer only to this committee. You will have express and written permission to commandeer resources by invoking army colonel-paygrade resources; any higher and you will seek General Christian for approval. All other information can be found in your packets" Her eyes swept the intelligence officers before her. "Any questions?"

"Page three says we are authorized to permanently reassign any subordinate officer or enlisted into the unit following approval from the National Defense Committee should we deem it necessary," said Juno, her gaze rising from the documents in her hands. "Does this come with the insinuation that it is advised to recruit more members for the unit?"

Dana shook her head. "The packet means what is written. You may choose to work only amongst the three of you if you believe it can get the job done more efficiently."

The ensuring silence from all three intelligence officers seemed to indicate that they had no other questions left. Dana looked to her four colleagues on the National Defense Committee; it didn't seem as if they had anything else to say either. She expelled a sigh; this briefing, somehow remarkably tiresome, was, for all intents and purposes, over.

"We're counting on the three of you." There was much truth in those words. "Dismissed."

* * *

**Exoria File #014  
Hylian Military**

Hyrule has historically been a naval power; much of the origins of their initial military were pirates who prowled the oceans, and although the country initially did battle with them, they soon found it more economic and profitable to hire the pirates as privateers to fight for them, promising them immunity from domestic persecution and spoils of war so long as they obey orders from the crown. As the pirates were not officially sanctioned by Hyrule, they became a political weapon the country wielded, as neither Gerudo nor Valent were able to pin direct political responsibility on Hyrule. By the age of industrialization, however, most of Hyrule's pirates had been completely incorporated into its official naval forces, thus ending the era of privateers. Due to a historic reliance on naval power, as well as superior Hylian technological and industrial capabilities, the modern Hylian navy remains the strongest branch of the nation's armed forces, with cutting-edge battleships that are the envy of other nations. The same technological and industrial capabilities also give credence to their air force, which is seen as an extremely potent adversary due to much more advanced aircraft compared to their neighbors. In comparison, however, Hylian ground army have become progressively underfunded and undertrained due to a combination of lack of harsh training and a growing human rights movement, a weakness that advanced technology, with a weak presence in the army, has yet to compensate for. The Hylian monarch is considered to be the commander-in-chief of the armed forces, but most of the actual executive decisions are made by the Hylian Joint Chiefs of Staff in the Ministry of Defense.

* * *

Author's Note: I would not at all be surprised if the figures I've given regarding the mass and displacement of joules from fairly simplified calculations are wildly off the mark, having been pulled off various sources on the internet, Wikipedia one of them. Feel free to laugh at my mistakes if there are any, but kindly don't harass me too much about it; I freely admit that I am neither a mathematician nor a physicist, and neither subject has been my forte. The intention was to allow Durandara to show off as an AI, not to provide a detailed account of all the forces of physics put into action when one collapses a building one hundred and twenty-eight meters tall.

Oh, and please don't try to collapse a building that's one hundred and twenty-eight meters tall. It's remarkably unhealthy.

There isn't much I have to say, really, other than that I'm reasonably pleased that I didn't take _too_ long in writing this chapter…at least, when compared to the atrocious speed at which recent updates have been written. I really wish I could say the same can apply for future chapters, but the truth is that I just remembered that one of my projects is due in three days, and I've completely forgotten about its existence. And, yet, here I am, writing _Exoria_. I must either be grossly overconfident of my ability to write a report in only three days, or a masochist.

Idly, something definitely worth mentioning: Due to Aura being increasingly busy, Type-00 has been kind enough to offer his services in proofreading. So if the chapters seem increasingly readable as opposed to being written by someone who only ever had three years of English schooling, it's probably because he was being awesome. So I express my thanks for his help, and hope you appreciate it just as much as I do.

RobotPirateNinja: _True. The Soviet Union also had widespread discontent in civilians. How is Valent keeping its population under control while simultaneously launching a massive invasion?_

Two major reasons. First, Valent was anything but a collection of former serfs or the proletariat or rural farmers, ala the Soviet Union or North Korea, before the Valentine Revolution or now. It is a collection of highly-disciplined people who are quite proud of their nation. I'd actually compare Valent not with the Soviet Union, but with the Third Reich or the Japanese Empire before and during World War II, hard-suffering people wary of the times of change and seeing newly formed governments as a sign of hope. If we were to use another analogy, imagine if modern day Japan suddenly became extremely right-wing to the point of Fascism. There is a sense of cohesion and national identity amongst the people of Valent, which goes some ways as to alleviating what would otherwise be discontent due to international conflicts. This isn't a black-and-white war, and the people of Valent have good reasons for loving their country.

Second, there are plot reasons. I'm sure you know I'll be keeping them close to the chest until the secrets are revealed, but I will say this: The Valentine people _agree_ with the invasion, and support it pretty much entirely.

A Curious Stranger: _I'll just go back and forth on this review since I'm feeling a bit scatterbrained and compiling it into a smooth legible mess is a bit beyond me at the moment, please take pity on me._

_Halo references abound in this chapter. Both from novels and games. Not quite sure if that's a good thing or not. And naming a trope by name in a serious story can easily detract from it. It worked here because it was being used as a nervous way to loosen tension after a serious battle but take care in putting them in so directly. And yes, this entire chapter totally made me think Metal Gear Solid and Shadow of the Colossus even before reading your author's note. Well done on that part, being familiar with the situation Link faced, even through another video game, made it incredibly easy to immerse myself into the setting._

_The fact that Link technically cheated on the Shadow of the Colossus part by using a grapple gun is okay though. After all, the Colossus here cheated by being extremely fast and having guns. Balance for everything, am I right!_

_I enjoyed how you repeatedly made it clear that Link only survived the battle by the sabotage he'd committed before. And foreshadowing is always nice. That explosion from Anansi is definitely not normal after all. And no magic instrument to take Link home with the winds. He has to rely on good old fashioned manpower and backup… which makes me think that somewhere at sometime evac will fail and he'll have some sort of Behind Enemy Lines scenario. And I look forward to the next chapter. I always like to see enemies and characters fleshed out. It makes for a more interesting reading experience if we know other motivations instead of just seeing Rargh! Bad guys bad, go beat them down._

_Does the TETRA system stand for anything or is it just another way to reference a previous Zelda game? The fact that it's on Version 3.4 indicates heavy modifications and prior usage, which is interesting seeing as how this mission with Link appears to be the first time Durandara was activated. Or at least that was the impression that I got from Doctor Hal passing the flash drive to Princess Zelda in the first real chapter. Or is it that Durandara is just that advanced that immediately after scanning Epona, she made a program for remote control and fine tuned it as the mission went on?_

_And this is just my personal preference, but anime like that just isn't very fun or good to lighten the mood. I mean, fanservice is nice and all but after a while it's just annoying isn't it? And there's only so many high-pitched squeaky voices you can take before they all run together. Go read a fun manga if you're going to watch anime. Far less time consuming. Beelzebub might be a fun read for you. Online libraries have gotten harder to find but there's still a few around._

_Well, I know this was quite the rambling but before I leave you, thank you for the chapter. I most definitely look forward to the next time you update._

Let's see if I can't reply to this review in an equally scatterbrained manner.

Yes, quite a lot of Halo references in this, and one to TV Tropes as well. I realize how potentially detracting naming tropes can be, and rest assured this won't happen often. It wasn't even part of the original script; the reason I added it was largely due to a joke between Aura (the person I've dedicated Exoria to) and myself, as both of us have spent an unreasonable amount of time on the website already. Just because all the cool kids are doing it doesn't mean I will as well.

Yes, I am stressing that, among other things, Link was extraordinarily lucky, and that even though Anansi is not meant to engage a single target like Link, there was pretty much no way he could've beaten Anansi in a fair one-on-one battle. I realize that I'm certainly no military expert, and I'm admittedly not trying all that hard to keep this story realistic, but I tend to put a foot down when the idea of characters being able to single-handedly destroy tanks that have destroyed army groups in a fair fight; that gets too ridiculous even for my standards. Now, had I been writing fan fiction for Final Fantasy VII, on the other hand…

I won't be as vain as to say that I had thought TETRA was an acronym when I decided on the name. There are a good deal of details I focus on, but I didn't think TETRA stood for anything. Now that you mention it, it could…but I really doubt that's particularly important. And, honestly speaking, for an author attempting to write a Legend of Zelda fanfic of this proportion, I actually have not played a lot of the games, and I haven't touched any game where Zelda is Tetra. Obviously, my earlier reference to Tetra – a street in Hyrule City – came because I had been spoiled about this, but, in this case, TETRA was a bit of a code that I had used in a previous story even before Nintendo made the character with the same name.

Cutting aside the useless tidbits, though, the TETRA System was already installed onto Epona for a while. In fact, this isn't even the first TETRA System developed; versions one and two, which is used in the form of military GPS (which actually works very differently from the GPS we have today, as there are no satellites in Exoria and space has remained untouched), are already used in several different Hylian military vehicles, although version one is severely outdated at this point; version three was developed alongside the MRX-4 project (which created Epona). By the time Link actually got Epona, the motorcycle was running on TETRA System 3.36. Considering that the only real thing Durandara did was add an algorithm into the system that would allow the motorcycle to be controlled manually or make navigational decisions that Durandara would make, the upgrade could've honestly put it the TETRA System to 3.37 instead, reflecting the status of a minor upgrade, but one supposes Durandara just got lazy and rounded it up to 3.4. Or she didn't want to bother with the fine points of version numbers, not when there's a massive spider tank shooting at you.

Oh, and speaking about Durandara, she has been scanning Epona for a long while now. And, like I said earlier, her upgrades to the TETRA System were relatively minor; they were just really important upgrades at the right time. The code, idly, is not perfect, and Durandara will be fine-tuning it as time goes on…but the fine-tuning will mostly occur behind-the-scenes so I don't bore you with pretentious technobabble that I myself don't understand.

I myself agree that Japanese seiyuus can be very scary people, especially the female seiyuus, who are often needed to provide voices for female characters that obviously cater to the Japanese male audience and their fantasy perception of females. I have my own views about this, but I'm also well-traveled enough to accept this as simply part of their culture and try to get past whatever prejudices the West may have towards them. The point being is that it gets a laugh out of me, and I think that may be what's more important than anything, even if I have to sit through a show that has a female lead whose "normal voice" sounds like crystalline gasping.

Whew, that was a mouthful. But, per usual, thank you very much for the long and thoughtful review.

Caseface78: _I almost never comment on stories but your teaser about the calendar in Exoria sparked my curiosity so much that I had to make an exception. So I'll throw this out there for everyone to chew on even if you can't confirm my suspicions (although I wouldn't mind it if you did...). Could the "a.s.r." possibly stand for After Sacred Realm? The Sacred Realm was the only piece of Zelda canon that I could fit with the letters "s" and "r" assuming that the "a" stands for after. However, I've never played the SNES or Gameboy Zelda games so there could be something I'm missing. Anyways, this is an excellent story and I encourage you to keep up the good work! I can't wait to read the next chapter!_

I'd hate to disappoint you or any other hardcore _Zelda_ fans out there, but the term "a.s.r." has nothing to do with _Zelda_ canon in a nominal sense. Translation: "a.s.r." stands for something that refers to an event in _Zelda_ canon, but the term is also completely made up, and the letters don't stand for anything that canon has brought up. But thank you for reading and commenting anyways.

HammerOfTheGods: _Aside from my belief that the three superweapons should be named after beings from Hylian mythology rather than our own, I've got no complaints so far. It's an excellent story, easily the best I've read recently from any fandom._

Please take a look at my reply to Watashiwa-Nanashi's review in Chapter Thirteen. Thank you.

The Pilot: _'Not on Par'? My dear sir, you have outdone yourself once again, what with this chapter filled with surprises, action-packed events, a suspense-filled battle scene that was nothing short of EPIC, and a uniquely original way of Link destroying the first Boss. Also, that was very clever, giving Anansi jumping abilities like that...made me think of the boss in LTTP that jumps around as it's trying to kill Link (I forget its name, though), as well as Queen Gohma in OOT._

_Now, I am curious about the TETRA system on Epona...is it sentient like Durandara, or is it just an upgraded computer with a female voice? _

_Finally, having Jessica save Link from the Humvees, instead of Link dealing with them himself is a good way of keeping Link's character believable (i.e. He's been through the fight of his life, and is probably suffering from fatigue at this point; it would probably look like he was TOO good to be believable had he taken out 12 humvees by himself). Great job as always!_

_PS: Best of luck with your last semester. I know what that's like (I work for a University), and will be waiting patiently for the next chapter. *Gives another flyby salute*_

Thank you very much for alleviating some of my worries about the quality of this chapter. I'm fairly convinced that I could've done better, but it's good to know that it's not an unreadable trainwreck. (Quoting a comedian whose name escapes me, this is unfair to trainwrecks, as people actually _want_ to watch trainwrecks.)

As I mentioned before to A Curious Stranger, the TETRA system is just an upgraded piece of software with a female voice. And thank you very much for your well wishes for this semester; I shall try to survive through it intact.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen**

It was late in the evening that the doors to Generalissimo Ganondorf's study opened ever so slightly. The creaking sound attracted little attention; the civilian ministers surrounding the generalissimo's desk were too busy debating with each other about how to handle increasingly difficult domestic situations, the rationing of food and supplies, the possibility of a wartime draft, and political posturing on the part of Southern Gerudo. Already, with three ministers and their advisors engaged in a heated discussion around the quiet, contemplating Ganondorf, who remained seated at his desk, it seemed that the study – usually a quiet retreat where the generalissimo could find quiet for his contemplation – had been converted into a miniature parliament.

But although little attention was given to the slightest opening of those large doors on the other end of the study, Ganondorf himself looked subtly up, noting the head that poked in almost immediately after door swiveled in. Expressionlessly, Emi, her face impassive as usual – which was to say she was still scowling – raised what seemed to be a cell phone in her hand for the generalissimo to see.

Both the generalissimo and the director of MICO were lip-readers, but, in this case, no verbal communication was necessary between them. Ganondorf knew exactly what Emi meant: "We've made contact."

The reply Ganondorf gave in return, unnoticed by the members of his cabinet around him, came with a meaning that was also crystal clear to Emi: "Time for Plan B."

Nodding her understanding, Emi withdrew from the opening, her head disappearing behind the door, before they were quietly shut, the director never having been noticed by anyone important or anyone who could've had any idea as to what she was up to. There was much work to do.

* * *

Save the calm hum of the elevator's engines pulling the car along the shaft leading from the subterranean sections of the Castle to Velvet's surface, the elevator car carrying Valentine military intelligence officers Alexandria, Steven, and Juno was eerily silent. The three, clad in sharp dark green uniforms and waiting for the elevator to reach its end destination, quietly read through their briefing packets once more, committing every single detail to memory. Or, at least, they seemed to. Major Steven himself, the youngest officer amongst the three in his mid-twenties, threw uneasy glances at both Majors Alexandria and Juno, two female officers of the same rank that were both older and likely more experienced than him. Steven didn't delude himself; while he certainly showed competent behavior through his career and didn't resort to pulling connections, he knew that someone high up in the chain of command had him transferred to military intelligence and put on a fast-track for promotion simply because his father was a three-star general in the army.

Contrary to how anxious he felt, Steven somehow had the impression of both of these female majors being remarkably…poised, somehow. Both of them flipped quietly through the documents with quiet deliberation, their faces forming masks of intense concentration. Alexandria had slightly hardened look, her shoulder-length brown hair looking dry and almost straw-like, blue eyes peering out from underneath. Juno's own green eyes were framed by a pair of glasses, and her blond hair, with slight curls that reached to the ends of her shoulder blades, were at the limit of what was considered military regulation, but being an intelligence officer had its perks. Despite this, Steven couldn't help but sense a great deal of professionalism from the two. It seemed he still had a lot to learn.

That said, the silence was killing him. Although they had already left the Chamber for five minutes, it seemed that the tense atmosphere within was now doggedly following them.

"Excuse me for not having made prior introduction," Steven finally worked up his nerve and managed to provide his winning smile and broke the silence; the two female officers, seemingly surprised at the sudden interruption, peered up from the documents in their hands. "I'm sure you already know me as Major Steven. It will be an honor working with you two." He nodded respectfully, extended his hand towards the two of them, clearly a gesture for a handshake.

To his surprise, however, there was some clear hesitation on the part of Alexandria and Juno as they regarded that hand expressionlessly. Steven was already wondering if he had done something incredibly stupid – the major worried that his face might be flushing in embarrassment – when Juno finally managed what seemed to be a patient smile, a hand reaching out to grasp Steven's own. "Nice to meet you as well," she conceded; despite the three of them working in military intelligence, this was actually the first time Juno had ever met Steven.

Steven smiled back, gave a slight, firm shake, before he and Juno let go; he then extended his hand to Alexandria just as the elevator chimed with a pleasant ding, indicating that they had almost reached the surface, and the elevator began to decelerate to a halt. However, just as before, Alexandria merely stared at the Steven's hand uneasily, unmoving.

Now Steven was almost completely certain that he had done something stupid.

"Excuse me," Alexandria finally spoke quietly after a period of silence, in which the double doors to the elevator conveniently opened, "but I prefer working alone." With that statement alone, she closed the folder in her hand, marched quietly out of the elevator car and out into the night-stained halls of the Castle, leaving only a dumbstruck Steven and an amused Juno, who calmly stepped out of the elevator as well.

"She can be like that," the remaining female intelligence major quipped in a somewhat humored nature.

"You've worked together before?" Steven was trying to recover from a flustered bout of embarrassment.

Juno shrugged. "Several times. She isn't exactly a people-friendly person. I'd be careful of her if I were you." She smiled; it somehow seemed sardonic, perhaps even a bit mirthless. "But I suppose she has the right idea; we're all capable enough of operating independently, and working alone will allow us to cover more ground."

"Oh," Steven said plainly; his voice sounded disappointed. Somehow, he had envisioned the three of them forming the command staff of an organized intelligence unit, but both female majors seemed to want to do things their own way. It wasn't just a matter of productivity; Steven was fairly sure that both Alexandria and Juno were more experienced than him, and he would've wanted to study how two more seasoned intelligence agents worked.

As if picking up on his thoughts, Juno flashed a quick smile. "I'm not averse to the idea of pooling resources, though," she quipped casually. "If you think you've found some kind of lead, don't hesitate to tell me."

"Sure," Steven started, seemingly a bit more enthusiastic now that it seemed someone at least had a semblance of teamwork in mind, but before he could complete the rest of his sentence, a comment about how he was counting on Juno, said officer was already headed for the exit of the Castle, her hand producing a PDA from a pocket. For all the social graces Juno initially had to show, it seemed that she, too, was much more orientated on results, and would rather move on with progress now.

Not for the first time since he left the Chamber, Steven wondered if he had somehow gotten in over his head with these two military intelligence officers.

* * *

The expected knock and subsequent swiveling of the doors to Zelda's diplomatic suite was the prelude to the entrance of Leonore, who quietly closed the door behind her and found her princess still seated upon her sofa, an ever growing stack of documents on the table before her that she viewed with increasing fervor. The papers were the week-long results of the present Hylian staff transcribing anything they could get off the radio and distant battle nets, as well as official documents that Gerudo deigned to provide them. Zelda, Impa, and Loenore had worked tirelessly to piece everything together, to find out about anything regarding the Hylian front, to find out about anything they could possibly do, but it was Zelda herself who dedicated herself to the task more than anyone else, who insisted on sleepless nights in hopes of that one single breakthrough.

If anything, Leonore admired Zelda's persistence; that breakthrough felt like a train that simply wouldn't come.

"Your Highness," she spoke, stepping up to the princess and taking a seat when Zelda absentmindedly gestured for the DJI to take a seat on the other side of the table. "The keeping of these odd hours won't do you any good."

Not for the first time, Zelda felt as if the impression of her capabilities and willpower were being challenged, as if everyone was somehow seeing her as a weak little girl that needed to be protected. "Is that coming from the Director of Joint Intelligence?" she asked, and was pleased to hear that her voice came out level without a trace of hardness or harshness; Impa had previously expressed worry when the crown princess voiced similar sentiments to Generalissimo Ganondorf upon her arrival to Fort Garuda, and she had been cautiously evaluating her control in a foreign land – an allied foreign land, at that – ever since.

Leonore's response was placating, patient. "It's coming from an old lady who has more experience in keeping late hours." That seemed to be that, until she finally broke into a resigned grin, added, "And an old lady being pestered by another old lady to remind her princess of such."

Zelda shook her head; it was amazing how desperate Impa had become to ensure the Hylian crown princess got enough sleep, seeing how she was now resorting to bugging Leonore into being a proxy and mouthpiece as well. It wasn't as if she didn't appreciate her chief of staff's attempts to watch over her health, but Zelda felt that there were certain priorities that must be respected. "How is Link?" she changed the subject while reminding herself that she indeed needed to rest at some point, if only to temporarily allay Impa's worries.

"I sent him to bed." Leonore would've normally had Link checked out for injuries, but, with circumstances as they were and despite her worries, she trusted him to exercise good judgment. If Link needed medical attention, he would've sought it out first instead of ignoring any damages to his body simply because he was ordered to rest. For the most part, aside from what seemed like a few superficial scratches, the Joint Intelligence agent had seemed fine anyways.

"You sound like his mother," Zelda gave a smile that bordered on a teasing grin, but Leonore knew the crown princess was grateful for that decision.

"I can't help it," the DJI jokingly replied with a sigh and a shrug of mock resignation. "He's the only one I can boss around right now. I've got to rub it in on _someone_."

The two ladies exchanged quiet, tired laughs; there had been little to joke about in recent days, and the change in mood was supremely welcome. Finally, the laughter died down, and Zelda averted her gaze, searching for a window through which she could look out at the night sky, then remembered there were no windows in this secure suite, sighed. "We owe him much more than we can afford to pay right now," she murmured, her voice so soft it was difficult for Leonore to hear. "As much rest as he needs is the least I can give." She gave a derisive snort that sounded like a short, harsh laugh, and she tilted her head into a lazy lilt. "A crown princess, reduced to bestowing rest as a reward for her subjects. How the mighty have fallen."

Leonore fought down a grimace. "These are extraordinary circumstances, your Highness," she spoke softly in a voice that sounded – to Zelda, at least – uncomfortably similar to the late Queen Marsha, her mother. Unsurprising, of course, but the crown princess almost shivered regardless. "And I'm sure Agent Link understands. I doubt he minds our being unable to lavish him with medals and promotions."

_It's not just about whether or not he minds_, Zelda told herself silently, barely suppressing a frown with that thought. _It's about my ability to do the right thing for him_. But she didn't voice that out loud; she had already said too much to someone who wasn't on an official palace payroll. These were concerns she generally only voiced to Impa, and – trying as circumstances might be – Zelda didn't want to seem _too_ unbecoming. "You had an update for me?" she asked, changing the subject once more.

Leonore nodded in confirmation; a slight pause seemed to indicate some concern of Zelda's mental and emotional well-being, but, at the last second, she mercifully decided to just let it slide. "You'll be pleased to know that I have managed some contact with Joint Intelligence agents out in the field, your Highness," Leonore finally reported, to which Zelda paid rapt attention to as she visibly sat straighter up on her couch. Regaining control over their intelligence assets was certainly welcome news, especially during a time where their provisional high command of precisely three individuals had been cut off from their forces for more than a week. "ECM is still cutting down on my capability to get the full picture, and my contact with them has been…incredibly sporadic. I understand, however, that there's still a decent number of them out there navigating in Hyrule around Valentine armies."

Zelda sounded impressed. "They've been avoiding detection," she murmured, thinking just how difficult it be to gather information on a seemingly omnipresent, overpowering enemy while remaining hidden. She would know, having made contact with the enemy herself while attempting to flee to Gerudo with Link in the opening day of the war.

"And raising seven kinds of hell while they're at it," Leonore grinned tiredly. "I think they've managed to eliminate a few officers and sabotage key supplies along the way. My orders, frankly, were slightly obsolete; I only…" the grin grew slightly amused, if not darkly so, "…gave them a bit more direction."

The fatigue that imprinted itself in Zelda's voice made it difficult to tell whether she was complimenting Leonore or making a sardonic observation. "How wily."

Still, Zelda contemplated this development. Having human intelligence assets on the ground essentially meant that the agents functioned even with the ECM active; all they needed to do was to not be captured or killed, and eventually find a way to report in…a concern that Leonore quickly addressed. "If we're able to solve the communications problem sometime soon," the DJI continued before providing a look that seemed to hint at referencing both Zelda and Impa, "and it is my understanding that it's soon, we'll have a functioning behind-the-lines HUMINT network. Less dependency on MICO." Leonore made a face. "Frankly, I don't feel comfortable having to share intelligence with them."

Strangely enough, despite her sharing the exact same worries, Zelda couldn't help but feel a bit defensive towards her allies as Leonore brought the issue of intelligence-sharing up. "I understand your worries." It was the crown princess' turn to sound placating. "We are, however, currently allies, and we can't expect to win all the time. I want to at least maintain the image that we're willing to cooperate with Gerudo; it's with their assistance that we've at least manage to get this far anyways."

Leonore made a sideways quirk of her lips that came off something akin to a grimace. "That was mostly in their self-interests, your Highness," she muttered. "But I understand that we managed to share those interests this time around."

Zelda merely nodded once before tilting her head back against the back of the couch, allowing her head to rest upon its top so that she was looking blankly up towards the ceiling of her diplomatic suite; a sigh escaped her lips. "Let's hope it remains that way."

* * *

Despite being the first out of the three members of the 1st Special Investigative Unit to start making phone calls, Alexandria soon realized that – unsurprisingly – she had already been one-upped by an old archrival.

She knew that she did not think like Juno, who moved lightning-fast to secure whatever impressive results she could; Alexandria herself was much more stable, choosing to reroute all her protocols from military intelligence to the newly formed 1st Special Investigative Unit. She had to do that in person, for paperwork hadn't caught up all the way yet, and the unit's existence was still something of a secret. The entire process only took the IT technicians at military intelligence ten minutes to complete, but that was already time enough for Alexandria to lose out on the initiative when she began to make plans for an inevitable visit to the scene of investigations, October City.

Helicopters, generally used to ferry officers to exactly where they needed to go, were impractical for a flight that would span practically half the continent. Transport flights meant to deliver tonnages of supplies to the front lines could not be ordered to fly to a specific location beyond their pre-designated landing zone – and while she _could_ get approval from the National Defense Committee, Alexandria knew that the war effort needed the transport planes to go exactly where they were needed right now, and she didn't want to waste a proverbial "silver bullet" over repurposing a transport plane – but the planes, which generally carried officers needing to get from place to place quickly, could at least get Alexandria close enough to where she needed to go, and she could order a helicopter to take her to October City afterwards. The destruction of the airport at October City meant no planes were going to be landing there anytime soon.

As soon as she returned to her small, modest, and barely-lit office to collect her equipment and finalize the details of her bureaucratic transfer, Alexandria pulled up the flight manifests from the military airfields around Velvet on her computer for the next flight to the October City area…and found that the next "available" flight would take off at 0400, practically three hours from now.

Alexandria frowned. She was sure that there was at least another outbound flight before 0400. That said, military flights did not work like commercial ones; unless the plane was truly packed or going over its maximum takeoff weight, they generally accommodated another officer who needed a quick lift elsewhere.

The major gave a call to air force operations to query for an answer. They soon revealed that two earlier flights to areas close to October City had both been commandeered with a two-two-four-one, which Alexandria recognized as a black ops code that indicated at higher priority and secrecy, and – aside from the person in the chain of command who issued it – all other officers involved were not obligated – or even allowed – to reveal the source of the order.

That was unsurprising. Juno had friends in the air force, and they would've gotten her priority clearance for the next flight out…and made sure she had a significant head start ahead of everyone else. Of course, both of them were majors in the 1st Special Investigative Unit, and she _could_ legally go through the channels to countermand the two-two-four-one, but that would take time, and Alexandria knew it would be prudent, if not faster, this time around to just accept the 0400 flight.

This, however, deserved a bit of thought. It was obvious that the two of them were now attempting to get to where Anansi had been sabotaged and destroyed. But considering that Juno had a head start, it was probably unlikely that Alexandria would be able to do anything Juno hadn't already taken care of by the time she got there. The logical place to start one's on-site investigation would be in October City…which was obviously where Juno was going to go. Alexandria would have to take a different approach.

She double-checked the preliminary reports once more, having remembered something from her earlier skim. Alexandria's memory served her well; on page eighteen, the documents noted that anti-air batteries between Fort Regner and Zubara logged an attempt to fire on and destroy a single Gerudo fixed-wing transport aircraft that had been flying below radar detection altitudes – in other words, dangerously low – over the Hylian-Gerudo border; the aircraft deployed flares before circling back to Gerudo. A Major Marisa from the 19th Battalion, Third Corps, also filed a similar report indicating that one of the battalion's men had witnessed the same event.

It wasn't the most obvious of clues, but it was still a thread begging to be pulled, Even if it meant getting close to Zubara, which had already been reclaimed by Gerudo forces, making her area of investigations a dangerous one. Regardless, Alexandria began dialing numbers in her phone to make arrangements for expedited transport to Fort Regner. If she was lucky, Juno would not have overturned _that_ stone yet…

* * *

Major Juno found herself strangely unimpressed by the carnage when her helicopter finally landed in October City in the morning, sending a sandstorm of dust into the air before the rotors of the aircraft slowed and wound down. From the air, Juno had actually allowed her lips to part slightly as she looked down and found a massive crater in the heart of October City, a massive hole devoid of anything. An almost-perfect circle in which everything had simply been _leveled_. But from the ground some kilometers away from the city proper, it looked like any warzone Valent had burned its way through over the past eight and a half days. Even the airport where the helicopter had landed, which was still undergoing firefighting processes even while fires burned and sent massive pillars of black smoke into the sky, didn't seem particularly special.

But, as an intelligence specialist, Juno knew that appearances were deceiving. As a humvee driven by a corporal across what remained of October City transported her from the ruins of the airport to the ruins of the city proper, she could see that devastation was everywhere. Only from the old photographs and videos of the Second Continental War had she ever seen destruction so rampant and complete.

It took only three minutes for the humvee to finally come to a halt at what seemed like a field staging area, a collection of tents and crates and military equipment out in the middle of nowhere. It was, of course, not actually the middle of nowhere, but the ruins of October City, practically right next to the massive crater Juno had seen from the air. A foul stench wafted through the air as she stepped away from the humvee in pursuit of the commanding officer of the area; she knew that the smell was from the flesh of the dead and dying of this battle, all of it coming from the medical station in the staging area.

Juno fought the urge to make a face; she had transferred to intelligence to get away from unpleasantness like this.

The fires in the city still burned, and the black smoke had created something a scene not at all dissimilar to thunderclouds looming ominously overhead now, supported by dark pillars that rose into the sky. Fires reflected off the canopy of smoke above, giving the sky a hellish coloration, dark black and glowing orange. _All we're missing are the thunderbolts_, Juno thought to herself as she looked grimly around, unaware that the local forecast had rain coming in the next evening.

Following vague directions given by the enlisted nearby – and attracting no shortage of glances from the enlisted who wondered what an intelligence officer was doing here – Juno navigated the wastes, ruins, and stations until she finally found an officer whose face matched the photo of a dossier she had been reading on the flight to October City. She strode briskly over, her gait quick in her interception of the officer who was moving from station to station, before falling in stride with the officer, firing off a quick salute in recognition but not submission. "Are you Colonel Kurt?" she asked.

The colonel, a grizzly-looking man in his early-fifties, only spared Juno the scarcest of glances before sighing, not even breaking pace as he continued to march through the ruins of October City. "Not a good time, major," he muttered, his voice clearly irate. Hours of walking through dust and ash had darkened his otherwise pristine uniform, drew dark lines across his face; Juno suspected it was soot.

"I'm Major Juno of the 1st Special Investigative Unit, sir," the major was undaunted as she quickly introduced herself; she already knew that she was going to have to make this as terse as possible, and even that may not necessarily be enough. She was glad that the colonel walked alone and without an escort; she didn't want any of Kurt's subordinates or aides riled up at any perceived impudence on her part. No offense meant, of course, but, at the moment, the major and the colonel reported to two entirely different chains of command. "I have direct orders from the National Defense Committee to…" there was a lull in her speech as she thought of the best word to use, then, realizing that such a pause probably would make things that much more complicated for the impatient colonel, quickly finished, "…_incorporate_ myself into the effort here."

Kurt remained unimpressed. "Unless you happen to be good at lifting, you're useless to me here. We've – _Why the hell do I still have an aid station here_?" He stomped over to a remarkably large aid station that stood in what used to be a parking lot behind a still-standing skyscraper, quite obviously frustrated. Dozens, if not over a hundred, soldiers were lying on litters with wounds of varying degrees. Judging by the way debris was littered all over the place, Juno judged that the area had only recently been cleared out to accommodate any form of medical area. In the meantime, she wrinkled her nose; this was where the unpleasant stench was coming from. "I told those medics to clear the area and set up their aid station somewhere else two hours ago! They're in the goddamn way!"

The medics were nowhere in sight – probably on the other side of the aid station – but one of the soldiers standing guard, a sergeant, was there to answer Kurt's question as he quickly jogged up to the colonel. "Sir, a lot of our wounded are still in really bad shape," he reported. "Docs don't want to move them until they get some more casevac birds."

While Kurt looked no less angry, the slightest softening of his voice hinted at the assumption that the colonel thought that this was at least decently reasonable. "And why the hell wasn't I told this two hours ago?" he grumbled.

"I don't know what to tell you, sir," the sergeant shrugged. "Because they already told you last night?" He sighed, shrugged again. "With due respect, everyone's stressed, sir."

Grimacing, Kurt surveyed the area once more – he suddenly noticed that the number of body bags had increased since he last saw this place two hours ago – and muttered something under his breath before turning away, deciding to leave the aid station be. The sergeant was right; morale had sunk noticeably, and everyone _was_ stressed. The situation was bringing the worst out of Kurt, and he suddenly looked tired, older. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have given anyone hell about the wounded; Valent looked after their own.

Juno, however, was not about to let the Kurt get away. "Colonel," she continued, quickly catching up with the overworked veteran, "you may not have been informed, but I have been…"

Sighing, Kurt stopped in his tracks, turned around with a flat look to Juno; he already had a vague idea that any subordinate officer _this_ forward towards a superior probably reported to a highly independent chain of command – meaning reprimands for insubordination were probably impossible – but that didn't mean he couldn't show his displeasure. "Look, major," he scowled, crossing his arms. "I have about sixteen different orders to carry out right now. I have pressure from the Castle to evacuate our wounded, to tighten area security, to search for anything that might remain from Anansi, to reestablish our supply chain, to reestablish a line of communication, to account for material losses, the list goes on. I'm expected to do this with just one combat battalion and I'm expected to do all this within the next ten hours. So unless you can somehow magically solve all these problems, you really need to leave me the hell alone so I can find someone who can."

Juno had no patience or mood to have to wade around what she believed to be clearly-defined jurisdictions, but she also knew she had to, at the very least, show some semblance of respect; there was a limit about how asinine one could be in the armed forces, even towards a superior who had no authority over her. "And I have orders from the Castle to conduct an investigation effort into how Anansi was destroyed," she insisted, pressing her point. She deliberately looked around, tried to look sympathetic, dramatically dropped her voice to a whisper. "We're just doing our jobs, sir. All I need you to do is sign over jurisdiction of material evidence to the 1st Special Investigative Unit so I have my paperwork taken care of. Think of it as me taking something off your hands, sir."

Gauging the intelligence officer before him, Kurt sized up Juno with a grimace. There _was_ some sense to what she was saying, admittedly, but like hell he was going to admit it outright; he didn't believe Juno was trying to be friendly as much as she was just trying to get what she wanted. But reason eventually prevailed as he removed his helmet, scratched the top of his head. Words Juno said that had gone into one of Kurt's ears and out the other were slowly beginning to come back and form coherent ideas. "I've never heard of the 1st Special Investigative Unit."

"No, sir, you wouldn't have. It was formed last night."

"Shit," Kurt exhaled explosively, one hand grabbing the clipboard with the required documents in Juno's hand, the other producing a pen from one of his many pockets. "Okay, you want your stuff, go bother Kathy about it. She's handling…information or evidence or whatever over at the command post right now." He returned the documents, now signed with a messy scrawl that was the colonel's signature. "Get her to take care of it. Now get out of my face. Stop following me."

"Thank you," Juno started to give an at least semi-respectful salute as she retrieved her clipboard, but Kurt was already moving in the completely other direction, eager to get Juno out of her life, leaving the major with a somewhat unpleasantly sardonic look on her face, "…sir."

Still, she got what she wanted. An inquiry into Kathy as she returned to her humvee quickly got her to the command post in the area about half a kilometer away. Juno exhaled deeply as she got out of the humvee and moved towards the tent where Colonel Kurt's staff officers were trying to get work done; although the dust still made the air relatively unpleasant to breathe, at least the foul stench of rotting flesh was gone.

"I'm looking for a Kathy," was all Juno said as she stepped into the middle of the open-air tent, navigating through a crowd of officers, desks, and equipment. A quick scan around for insignias pleased her; everyone here was ranked at captain or lower, meaning Juno was effectively the highest-ranked officer in the tent, backing from the National Defense Committee or no.

A young blond officer suddenly stood up behind her, quickly saluted, "Ma'am."

Juno turned around and spied the insignia on the officer's uniform to confirm her rank while fighting down an urge to slap the girl's hand away from her brow, knowing full well that snipers often watched for salutes to identify who was an officer to pick off in the enemy army when everyone wore the same combat fatigues. In fact, the joke was that the best way to get an unpopular superior officer killed was to keep saluting him in a combat zone. If Juno had to guess, this officer was probably fresh out of OCS and eager to please her superiors. She could make use of that…if she wasn't killed by a sniper because this officer was so pitifully green. "Second Lieutenant Kathy, responsible for material evidence?" she confirmed.

"Salvaging, ma'am," Kathy corrected.

"So you're in charge of investigative efforts of what has happened here?"

The second lieutenant gave what seemed like an embarrassed, flustered grin; Juno somehow doubted this girl will ever advance anything beyond some kind of constantly-molested secretary for some high-ranking officer through her military career. "No, ma'am, I'm just responsible for gathering what we can from the area until military intelligence can take over."

That worked for the intelligence officer. "You're looking at her," Juno said crisply, opening a folder in her hand and handing over official-looking paperwork to the second lieutenant, harboring a fairly accurate prediction that the girl will probably be overwhelmed by the perceived important of documents from the Castle. "Major Juno, 1st Special Investigative Unit. As of 0750 local time, I'm taking jurisdiction over investigative efforts and its corresponding evidence here in October City per National Defense Committee directive." She gave a furtive sweeping look around, mildly pleased that the low-ranking staff officers all around were suddenly looking at her in curiosity, if not a bit of awe. "For starters, I want all recorded evidence. There has got to be active surveillance cameras or some other recording equipment throughout the city; traffic cameras, security cameras at the airport. I want them all."

Juno wasn't entirely sure that the subordinate officer was finished leafing through the paperwork furiously, but she did look up with an alert, if not startled, expression as soon as Juno was finished. "Ma'am," Kathy managed to stammer a bit, realizing that the major in front of her packed a degree of political and bureaucratic firepower the second lieutenant had never personally seen. "A lot of the electronics had been shorted out by the two explosions here. There isn't much."

The major smiled thinly. "I'll take what you have."

* * *

**Exoria File #015**

**Gerudo Military**

As a nation comprised almost entirely of desert, Gerudo has long relied on naval routes to focus on trade; although land trade routes were not at all uncommon, they were often seen as treacherous and dangerous, and it was not uncommon for merchants to disappear into the desert and never been seen again, most likely buried under shifting dunes of sand. The sweltering heat and unforgiving conditions, however, have bred pragmatic discipline into every woman and man of Gerudo like no other nation. Hylian and Valentine visitors are often stunned into seeing how well Gerudo civilians accept the military rationing of necessities and resources like food and water, and even children are expected to obey water discipline with no complaints. With its civilians having to brave the desert on an everyday basis, it is no surprise that even recruits for the Gerudo army, fresh from the citizenry, are notably tougher than their Hylian and Valentine counterparts. Due to the nature of desert warfare, Gerudo chooses not to specialize its ground forces, and, historically, its provinces have raised armies for conventional warfare for its regional concerns and interests. While this effectively means that Gerudo has no equivalent of special forces, it also means that every Gerudo footsoldier is trained to adapt to any ground role possible; it is therefore not surprising to see the average Gerudo infantrywoman radioing artillery coordinates in one moment, jump into the gunner's seat of a tank in the next, storm a building with a rifle the moment afterward, and finally drive an infantry fighting vehicle from the combat zone lastly. However, the Gerudo air force is extremely weak and underequipped; compared to Valent and Hyrule, Gerudo came into aviation technologies late due to its initial infeasibility with violent sandstorms whipping across most of the country, and has since been playing a catch-up game where development of aircraft is concerned. In times of peace, entire army groups of the Gerudo military are under the jurisdiction of their provincial governors as a peacekeeping force, answering to the provincial government. In times of war, however, the command is regulated to the generalissimo, who has authority over the Armed Defense Staff of the Defense Ministry. Despite attempts at political maneuvering, no serious progress has been made in changing military jurisdiction between peacetime and wartime to expedite the process in which command is transferred and the military can be deployed.

* * *

Author's Note: Apologies from me probably mean little at this point, given how frequently (and probably cheaply) I've been expressing them, so I will simply give three reasons why this chapter has taken so long to write. The first, as I have mentioned multiple times, is that I am approaching the end of my semester, in which everything is starting to flood my schedule and accumulate and generally make a mess of things in my life. The second is the fact that I had gone on another mid-term vacation to Greece (long-time readers may remember that I had spent my previous mid-term vacation in Tuscany, Italy, but I won't bore you with the details of my life), which was beautiful, by the way. And third is that a friend of mine has recently introduced me to _Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion_, and I've been addicted. Still, I do continue to work on _Exoria_, and although it may be a selfish request, I sincerely hope that you will still maintain interest in this story, despite my horrendous update schedules.

This is the shortest chapter of _Exoria_ yet, and quite clearly a reprieve from the action we have seen lately. (Actually, the real reason why this is a short chapter is because the magic number of pages for each chapter is eighteen, although I often have to give and take a few for narrative reasons. The Microsoft Word document for _Exoria_, however, has gotten very large and very long to practically handle – two hundred and seventy pages so far – so I decided that I needed a cutoff point before I continued writing the story on another document labeled "Part Two", and the cutoff point needed to be a multiple of eighteen…which, this time along, is two hundred and seventy. However, the previous chapter ended at page two-fifty-nine, meaning this chapter is only eleven pages long so that I can end it on page two-seventy. Clearly, I'm quite OCD.) Per usual, I'm not impressed by my writing quality, but I think all of you may have realized by now that I'm very critical of myself, and will want to avoid my pity parties whenever possible.

The setup for the Jormungand arc, as you have noticed, will be long and convoluted. With the destruction of Anansi, Valent has realized it can no longer rely on simply brute force, and multiple options are being cultivated, as evidenced by the 1st Special Investigative Unit. And there are internal politics within the Hylian-Gerudo alliance as well; allow me to just say that Emi is no slouch when it comes to espionage and politics, and the purpose of her existence is far from proving that Leonore and Joint Intelligence are vastly superior, because they're not.

There isn't much else to say about this chapter, but I'll let you in on two little tidbits about _Exoria_. First, Leonore was actually heavily influenced – albeit subconsciously – by two video game characters, Doctor Catherine Halsey of _Halo_ and Robin O'Connell of _Zone of the Enders: 2173 Testament_ (because _Fist of Mars_ just sounds really stupid). Also, the initial storyarc involving Link getting Zelda out of Hyrule City was supposed to be some ways longer – Zelda would be captured, but Link eventually manages to infiltrate where the military is holding her before she's transported to Velvet – but I eventually decided that this was pushing the odds too far and that – more importantly – I was too lazy.

Onto reviews…

Cedarleaf: _Wow. I'm almost just as impressed with some of the reviews you're getting with this thing as the story itself. You have some very attentive-to-details reviews. To throw in my own two cents, I must say I haven't been this blown away by a fic in a very, very long time. This is one of the best Zelda fics I've ever read, and hands down the best set in mostly modern times. I found this fic about two weeks ago via TVTropes (many here seem to have come the same way, interestingly), and have been waxing poetic about it to my fellow Zelda geeks every chance I get ever since._

_Because I have to move around a lot, I read this fic by transferring it to my Kindle, and I admit I missed a lot of your author's notes, so if I'm repeating something somebody else already mentioned, please excuse me._

_First off, holy wow! /Awesome/ job of updating the Zelda setting! The hookshot as a grappling hook was easy, but Link's bow as a sniper rifle? Wicked! Please tell me the light arrow's gonna be some kind of a laser! That would be so sweet! But it isn't just the weapons. The way you have the nations and militaries set up, infiltration missions as dungeons, even giant superweapons for final bosses! For someone who claims to not be an expert in military stuff, you have a pretty epic imagination._

_And I must comment on this being the first Zelda fic I've ever read where Link spirited Zelda away TO /Ganon/ for safety. Usually they hightail it as fast as possible the other way!_

_You've also really got me intrigued by all those little references and tidbits that suggest this really might be in the same universe as the games, like Zelda feeling nostalgic about seeing Link in green camos (another of my favorite upgrades!) and that little thing about the hero from way back when._

_Speaking of the silent hero himself, I'd actually be pretty surprised if you did end up pulling a Moses in the bullrushes. I really appreciate getting a more intimate look at the Valentines (and I know you like to keep your secrets closely guarded, but please elaborate at least a little more on why Valent seems to be more concerned with spiriting civilians away than anything else, because frankly I find that to be the creepiest thing about them and this war), but I don't see how Link secretly being a long lost member of their nobility/royalty would be ultimately relevant, other than being an "oh, so that's why he's so good with a gunsword, it's in the blood" kinda thing. He's Link, ergo he is a badass. No further explanation needed. If the fight with Valent was more personal for him (and it may yet become so), I could understand, but for now I'd let it be._

_I do have one other minor suggestion for you. One of the best, most awesome things about this fic is all the detail and history you give to stuff, especially via the exoria files. However, in this chapter, I felt like Durandara's explanation was a little too long for me, to the point where it actually took me out of the story a little, because you've already amply demonstrated her incredible capabilities in previous chapters. I certainly understand that the whole point of that segment was for the Hylian war cabinet to figure out more about Anansi, and it's crucial that this happens, but I feel that purpose would have been more smoothly served by less actual dialogue and more of you describing and kinda summarizing what was said and what conclusions were made. It was just a bit much to read after a point is all. Other than that, I have absolutely nothing but praise for you and this fic._

_Eagerly awaiting the next chapter, your loyal fan,_

_Cedarleaf_

…Actually, you know, I've never actually thought of that; there _is_ irony in the fact that the characters are rushing to Ganondorf this time as opposed to running away as fast as possible, and I had a good laugh when I read that. Thanks for pointing that out, as well as "waxing poetic" to your friends; authors always appreciate free advertising and the ego boost.

Link likely _won't_ be getting a laser, actually, as it can be quite…well, overpowered. Well, not just overpowered; there's a certain limit to which I'm comfortable with technology advancing in this world, and considering that most theorists believe that a handheld laser would be an extremely impractical weapon even within the next century, I'm really not going to push my luck there. There actually _will_ be a laser weapon – or at least something that resembles a laser weapon – in the story, but believe me when I say it's anything _but_ handheld. You'll see it when it comes. And, no, I'm not an expert of the military, but I will say that I've done a certain amount of research, and have friends who are – or have been – in various services across the globe. If I'm not sure, I can generally ask them first. That said, it's not as if I haven't taken certain liberties that are pulled from fiction.

And, yes, I've actually heard of several complaints about Durandara being "annoying". I guess it has to do with the fact that she's extremely talkative, but I feel it's mostly to make up for the fact that Link simply doesn't talk, and having to read entire chapters with very few dialogue can be tiring. Still, yeah, the entire overly-detailed scientific explanation from Durandara is not something I want to repeat again; it's just something I did to define the character at the time.

Thanks for reviewing and following; I hope to see more reviews from you in the future.

Heavenly Observer: _I've noticed your fic a few times before, but passed it over cause... Zelda in a modern setting? Hows that gonna work? Well I finally got around to it and damn if it isn't one of the coolest fic I've ever read._

_I can't find anything I outright dislike and its become much more readable since the number of commas seems more tame than the first few chapters._

_You use a lot of elements from other series which I find cool, gunswords equal pretty much instant awesome... in most cases, fortunately this is one of them._

_The gritty realism is nice and the lack of endlessly recycled side characters is somewhat refreshing. I'm liking your Ganondorf for some reason, seems like a fairly decent guy compared to his other portrayals... which doesn't mean much when I think of it._

_On the other hand, I find Durandara somewhat irritating..._

_I was having flashbacks to playing 'The Incredibles' on GBA the whole time when reading the boss battle. One of the recurring bosses was a similar superweapon, even slammed itself into the ground and had a chain-gun (though only one instead of a few dozen). Guess its just theoretically an efficient design._

_Can't wait to see what other fancy toys Link gets his hands on, with your setting they promise to be pretty epic. He's already got the long range weapon, basic sword, and hookshot along with an awesome motorbike which keeps making me think of Cloud Strife's Fenrir. I'm guessing bombs are dropped in favour of plastic explosives and a shield is kinda pointless. Hawkeye and lantern is kinda in the sunglasses as you mentioned._

_Really can't see what Links gonna need, other than a re-breather or something... collapsible glider/jetpack? Meh, I'm sure whatever you come up with will be awesome. Though question, with the magnetic grapple launcher, wouldn't it be somewhat difficult to hang on to when reeling in? A wrist mounted design seems more efficient or would that be too bulky? Could the Gerudo's remodel it?_

_Your character interaction is top notch and Link seems to be utilizing self enforced obliviousness to counter the suggestive comments._

_Epona's got a remote control function now... which means Link can now pull of ridiculously awesome aerial acrobatics, safe in the knowledge Durandara can steer Epona to catch him. I guess Epona's not gonna see too much action in the next two dungeon crawls, except as an escape vehicle. Upgrades for underwater and flight capability would probably be pushing it... at this point. Couldn't Durandara create a rear vision screen though holograms? Looking over you shoulder at speed exceeding 200km/hr seems like a BAD IDEA._

_How does Link deal with the blood from slashing people with his gunsword in sword mode? Wouldn't it retain the blood when it changed back? Can't see him exactly willing to leave his equipment bloodied._

_Welp, awesome story, hope to see more, good luck in uni, and... yeah._

Your doubts as to how a modern _Zelda_ story would work out is certainly understandable, and even many of my writer friends had expressed difficulty in relating to the concept; I am, however, quite glad that I have at least convinced another person that it somehow works out in the end, and I look forward to your continued reading.

You are not the first person to find Durandara annoying, and I seriously doubt you will be the last. Her character is talkative to counteract the fact that Link rarely ever talks, but I guess that can easily rub off on some readers the wrong way. I'm not going to ask you to interpret her in any other way, though; I do not create characters with labels that say "likeable" or "dislikeable". It's a matter of perspective, and it's part of your reading experience, so – by all means – continue to be irritated by Durandara unless you find reason to find otherwise.

Now that you mention it, Epona – as the motorcycle, of course – is actually heavily influenced by the Fenrir motorcycle that Cloud uses in _Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children_, and its shape and design was the one I had in mind when I first visualized Epona. For one thing, I will say that Link will use neither a rebreather nor a glider when fighting Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl; a rebreather would be useless when fighting at a depth in the ocean where the water pressure would _crush_ Link, while Quetzalcoatl can fly higher and faster than your average glider. You're just going to have to see how it goes.

Also, it's largely a choice of style than anything else, I chose not to be _too_ bloody with regards to _Exoria_. I guess I'm a bit more "Japanese" than "Western" in that sense; while both sides are generally willing to explore more mature subjects, I feel that Western media has a need to enforce this with graphic visual depictions of gritty, dirty, ugly realism (ala _Elder Scrolls_), while the Japanese media tries to make things look more attractive while not losing the dark ideas it was trying to portray (ala _Final Fantasy_). Translation: I didn't include a whole lot of blood that would otherwise realistically be stuck onto Link's gunsword not because I didn't want to handle the realism of having to clean blood off blades, but simply because I'm disinclined towards turning _Exoria_ into a bloodfest. You're not likely to find blood spraying from wounds at high pressure from me.

Thanks for the well wishes for my last semester; I will try to update as soon as possible.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

The Valentine Third Corps bustled with activity.

Infantrymen rushed to and fro with encamping equipment, sandbags, and machine guns as weapons and tools were ferried around the frontlines of their main line of resistance where, every now and then, there would be a crack of a very distant gunshot, followed by an extended period of quiet that generally last about ten minutes at a time, before _that_ would be followed by the next crack. Gerudo snipers, most likely, hiding in the distance, taking potshots. Opportunist bitches were taking full advantage of Anansi's destruction.

Every now and then, someone important would get hit.

It was something that Major Marisa of the 19th Battalion took into consideration as she led Major Alexandria through their main line of resistance. They were sure to take cover when possible, mingle with the men when it was not, and generally keep out of sight or look unimportant. Thankfully, Alexandria seemed to be well-trained, her motions fluid and actively looking for one form of cover or another, blending into her environment. Somehow, Marisa didn't feel like Alexandria spent all her career cooped up behind a desk.

It wasn't her place to judge, of course, but, deep down, Marisa approved.

Still, she averted her gaze, kept her attention forward. All Marisa knew was that the military intelligence officer was important somehow – Colonel Robert had actually gotten her to accommodate Alexandria personally – but, other than that, she didn't care. Her primary concern was still digging into the area just between Fort Regner in Hyrule and Zubara in Gerudo; they were still in Hylian territory, but still damn close to the border, which meant they couldn't take any chances.

Especially not when morale was seriously hit; Anansi was destroyed not much further than a hundred kilometers away. Somehow, it seemed like a blow closer to home…especially when some were wondering if they themselves, the 19th, were somehow responsible in some way for allowing the circumstances of Anansi's destruction.

Which was probably why everyone was digging in, Alexandria realized, setting up encampments and trenches and machine guns and heavy weaponry. With Anansi's destruction, the Castle had limited the offensive campaigns in both theaters of the invasion effort. Everyone was going on the defensive now.

Alexandria drained the contents of the paper cup she had been given at battalion headquarters, allowing hot coffee to enter her system. The caffeine didn't help her much – not anymore – but the warmth was nice. It was nothing compared to what the weather could be like in Valent, but Hylian mornings in this time of the year were still quite chilly. Visibility remained good, though; there were overcast clouds, but no fog. She was going to have to make sure she found somewhere out-of-sight from most vantage points to talk with her subject; Alexandria did not want to make herself a massive sniper's target.

The two majors finally stopped as they reached the main line of resistance, the very fore of the Valentine formation against Gerudo forces waiting on the other side of the border. Alexandria knew how dangerous this could potentially be – she was only a few kilometers away from the brunt of any Gerudo assault on the Third Corps – but she had been insistent that the entire investigation stay as quiet as possible. That meant no recalling her subject to the battalion headquarters, no records, no third-party witnesses. There were some things that were better as secrets.

Spotting the back of the man Alexandria needed, Marisa called out crisply, "Corporal Nicholas." Immediately, a rather young corporal responded to that call as he stood up from where he had been setting up a stack of sandbags with two other soldiers. He quickly jogged up to the two majors, stopped and saluted, "Ma'am." A curious look towards the mysterious major from military intelligence was not lost on either Alexandria or Marisa, both of whom saluted in return, allowing Nicholas to stand at ease.

"This is Major Alexandria from the 1st Special Investigative Unit," Marisa introduced as she turned her head slightly towards Alexandria as a means of gesture. "She has a few questions she would like to ask you."

A mildly alarmed look instantly crossed the corporal's face at the words "special investigative unit", prompting him to immediately wince and mutter just slightly above his breath, "Oh, shit." That look, however, was quickly suppressed as he caught Major Marisa throw him a sharp, stern look that clearly showed her disapproval at the breach in protocol; he quickly shaped up.

Swiveling her head to face Alexandria, Marisa professionally asked, "Will that be all?"

Alexandria nodded in response. "Thank you, major."

Marisa merely nodded before turning back around towards battalion headquarters, marching off in that direction. Nicholas' eyes quickly watched her retreating back while throwing gazes at Alexandria scrounging handwritten notes from her pockets while moving into the encampments for cover, motioning for Nicholas to follow; as soon as his commanding officer was out of earshot, he sheepishly asked the intelligence major, "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

The major looked up and around at Nicholas with a humorless expression that seemed almost bored. "Are you?"

Not getting an answer he was expecting or wanting, the corporal grimaced. "Well, it's not every day a major from military intelligence questions a measly corporal," he admitted, then, remembering that he was speaking to a commanding officer, albeit one from military intelligence, added hastily, "Ma'am."

Alexandria shook her head as she finally stopped inside a hastily-erected bunker constructed out of fast-acting concrete; the ammunition crates in the small defensive structure indicated that it was likely going to be a machine gun nest to be used against infantry, but the machine gun had yet to be brought in, never mind set up. "I just have some questions. Major Marisa submitted a report saying that you witnessed a Gerudo military transport plane execute a low-altitude flyby three nights ago?"

"Uh, yes, ma'am." A frown had etched itself across Nicholas' brow; clearly, this was not exactly what he had been expecting in terms of what he was going to be asked about. That said, he didn't even know Marisa had submitted a report about it, and privately hoped this wouldn't lead to more investigations involving him in the future. The less chances he had of talking to intelligence spooks, the better. Still, it didn't sound like he was in trouble yet; that was always a good sign.

"What can you tell me about it?" inquired Alexandria, her eyes not leaving her notebook as she scribbled away on the paper.

"Well, uh." The lines across Nicholas' brow tightened; now he was really trying to recall memories that he had already dismissed as obsolete. "I was out on a routine nighttime patrol when a Gerudo plane flew in really low, about ten, twenty meters away from the ground, maybe? It maintained that altitude for about ten seconds before pulling up. Anti-aircraft missiles then tried to shoot it down, but the aircraft deployed flares. I wasn't sure what happened to the plane after that."

"Why not?" Alexandria made sure she kept her voice non-accusatory; the last thing she needed was for the corporal to get defensive and withhold information to protect himself.

Nicholas shrugged. "I wondered why the plane had to fly so low along the ground, so I reconnoitered the area over which it flew at low altitudes. I didn't pay much attention to the plane after that. I guess you should ask the crews manning the AAs that night, ma'am."

"You are sure it was a Gerudo aircraft?"

"Positive, ma'am. I'm familiar with the model." Despite his best efforts to suppress it, the corporal smiled a bit sheepishly, almost embarrassedly, finding some humor in a statement to which Alexandria had no amused reaction to. Some friction existed in between troops and intelligence officers of almost every army in history, and, for all the Valentine discipline Nicholas had, he wasn't sure he wanted to be _too_ subordinate to Alexandria. "I'm…a bit of a machinery enthusiast."

The major continued on with the main highlights. "Was there anything peculiar about the aircraft or its actions that you can identify?"

"Aside from it flying at low altitudes?"

"Yes."

Several seconds of thought and recollection passed before Nicholas replied, "No, ma'am."

"You didn't find anything unusual along the aircraft's flight path either," persisted Alexandria.

"No, ma'am," Nicholas confirmed. "After I made a preliminary recon effort in the area, I radioed the rest of the battalion. Lieutenant Colonel Robert sent a company over to comb the area, but they didn't find anything either."

Now that was curious. "Why did you not alert the battalion immediately?" the major asked.

Immediately, Nicholas felt almost a bit defensive; that question had the potential to get him into a lot of trouble. "I wasn't quite sure what had happened, and I didn't feel _that_ suspicious, ma'am." His voice had taken on a slight edge, and his speech had slowed slightly, as if he was carefully pruning everything he said. "My checking out the aircraft's flight path was just a gut feeling, and we ended up finding nothing anyways. Our anti-aircraft guns were firing at it anyways, so I figured battalion HQ already knew." Nicholas made a slight face. "Plus there was one of those special forces jackasses also checking out the area, so I thought it would be prudent to maintain radio silence until he said otherwise."

Alexandria's gaze bore into Nicholas' own, studying the corporal for several seconds in intense silence, as she stated flatly, "I was in special forces before I transferred to military intelligence."

Nicholas tried to suppress another unpleasant expression, but the aversion of his gaze as he turned away, coupled with what seemed to be the mouthing of "shit" seemed to indicate that he knew he had screwed up, and reprimands were probably going to come down soon.

Which was probably why he was a bit more relieved when Alexandria simply asked, "The special forces jackass. Tell me about him."

That incurred a surprised blink, then a look of relief on Nicholas face. If the ex-special forces major was fine using the term, it seemed that he was okay for now. "Uh," his gaze wandered around as he dug through the recesses of his memory. "He was a first lieutenant. Male, blond hair. He wore tinted sunglasses, so I didn't catch his eye color. Wasn't very tall, somewhere under one-eighty centimeters, I think. He carried a gunsword I've never seen before."

An intriguing observation. "What do you mean?" Alexandria inquired.

"Like I said, I'm something of a machine enthusiast, especially towards military hardware, ma'am. I know most the gunsword models that special forces carry, but I've never seen his before. It was probably custom equipment."

The major regarded Nicholas carefully. Having interrogated individuals before left her with experience that told her there were certain times where witnesses were often jumping to conclusions; there were times where she just had to make sure of the details by rephrasing or explaining the statement. That, and she still didn't have a good handle on Nicholas to judge whether he was the kind of person to exaggerate or downplay details. "Special forces frequently add modifications or extra equipment to customize their gunswords," Alexandria said evenly. "Are you sure this is a full custom model and not a modified gunsword?"

Nicholas pursed his lips, allowed his gaze to wander to Alexandria's hip. He had noticed it before, but now the subject brought the full brunt of realization forward, that Alexandria carried a Valentine gunsword with her in its sheath; Valentine gunswords were not meant to be collapsible, making any switch from sword to gun merely a matter of adjusting the angle by which the weapon was held. _Rather different from the gunsword I saw that night_, Nicholas thought."I'm pretty sure. Like, eighty percent, ninety percent sure."

Eighty, ninety percent was a fairly good figure. Alexandria didn't know how much it meant coming from this corporal she didn't know, but the young man seemed to have a head screwed properly on his shoulders, and it wasn't as if she had many other leads anyways. It was worth looking up. "Did you get a name from him?" she asked.

Nicholas was beginning to understand Alexandria's line of thought, and he, too, was beginning to wonder if that special forces first lieutenant wasn't really who he seemed to be. A bit of guilt, if not worry, was beginning to seep into his gut; it was potentially his fault that someone managed to get through their line of defense. Things may have turned out differently had he had the mind – not to mention courage – to ask the first lieutenant to verify his identity. "No, ma'am; all I know is that he…" he was tersely interrupted by an echoing gunshot from the distance, making him flinch just slightly. Gerudo snipers at work, apparently. The lack of a commotion over it, however, seemed to indicate that no one was hit…_this_ time. Nicholas lamely finished, "He had the insignia of a first lieutenant."

"Did anyone else see him?"

"Not that I know of, ma'am."

Which meant that, unless there was some act of divine intervention or something she had missed through her preliminary research – either was unlikely – the trail ended with Nicholas, and Alexandria was just going to have to work with what she had. "Thank you, corporal," she nodded, shoving her notebook back into her pocket with a nod. "That's all I need." She looked around, exhaled deeply, allowed a cloud of warm vapor to escape into the cold air; things were going to get bloody around here soon. She didn't want to sound pessimistic or unimpressed with her own military, but Alexandria was acutely aware that her chances of ever seeing Nicholas alive again were…unlikely, to say the least. Still, young men like him were now holding the main line of resistance; that was something to respect. "Good luck with the defense," she murmured as she looked back at Nicholas and saluted; she doubted she needed to remind Nicholas that their interview was classified. "We're counting on you."

"Yes, ma'am," Nicholas returned the salute and, correctly interpreting that it was time for him to get out of there and get back to work, swiftly departed the machine gun nest.

Alexandria politely allowed several moments to pass, for Nicholas to get a few meters ahead, before stepping out of the machine gun nest herself, exhaling deeply as she prepared to find a way to her next area of investigations. She had a slight urge to be out in the field as well, holding the line…but everyone had their own jobs.

The major needed to do hers.

* * *

Link awoke once more to the discomforting sound of silence.

Eyes slowly opening to see the blank ceiling of his diplomatic suite in Fort Garuda, the Joint Intelligence agent slowly roused, consciousness seeping back into his mind as he pondered whether or not he should have been used to the sensation of peace by now. It was not at all the first day he had spent the night here, after all, and he wasn't particularly fond of waking up with that same foreboding feeling of disquiet.

Maybe Anansi had something to do with that. The previous mission had blasted virtually every one of his senses; everything seemed a bit dull, slow now.

With what constituted almost as a silent groan, Link rose slowly from his sheets, stretching as he did so. He had bothered to change out of his Valentine fatigues this time around, having donned a pair of robes after a good shower the night before. The green uniform of a special forces first lieutenant was hung on the knob of a nearby cabinet; Link had declined an offer by the palace staff to have the uniform stitched and cleaned, feeling that the wears and tears and scruffs gave the distinct feel of a soldier who had been out in the field a lot. If he ever needed to go out undercover again for reconnaissance purposes, he needed to maintain that image. A special forces officer with a pristine, freshly-pressed uniform would stand out too much.

His Joint Intelligence suit, however, the infamous black-on-black of Hyrule's elite intelligence operatives, had been returned from the laundry, having been sent just before Link's departure to Fort Regner. After his usual morning routine of cleaning up, he slipped back into his uniform, albeit without his tie and jacket, once again remaining just a diplomatic guest of Fort Garuda wearing only a shirt with a few top buttons loose and a pair of black trousers. He had not received formal orders from Leonore indicating that he was "on leave" yet, thus pointing at the potential need for him soon at a moment's notice, and he thus chose to remain within Fort Garuda just in case there was an urgent phone call to be picked up.

That was not to say, however, that he needed to let the day waste away.

Leaving the room after sparing the clock in his room a glance – ten forty-five in the morning – Link found the corridors of the diplomatic suites as desolate as they always were, but he was no longer as alarmed, even though he still kept his gunsword in his holster. Increased sounds of distant and unintelligible voice, however, hinted at an increase in security, normal this late into the morning. Somehow, he felt a bit more secure – for Princess Zelda, not for himself – than the first time he had woken up with some alarm a week ago in Fort Garuda. On that thought, he spared Zelda's suite a cursory glance as he passed it, pushing the bridge of his sunglasses further up his nose as he did so; it seemed quiet inside, although that probably had little to do in terms of indicating the level of activity inside as much as it spoke for the suite's sound insulation. Link personally hoped her Highness was sleeping; he knew of the hours she had been keeping since the start of the war.

Continuing down the hallway, he eventually reached the reception area, seeing and recalling the sergeant manning the desk, the same young woman who had been there when Jessica unceremoniously ran into Link only half-dressed. Again, the woman stood at attention from where she sat, giving Link a polite smile and the nod of her head, gestures uncharacteristic of what would otherwise be expected in the face of a continental war. Again, no salute, but that was to be expected; he'd rather be taken aback if the sergeant did, in fact. The Joint Intelligence agent couldn't help but notice, however, that the nod seemed a bit more…respectful in nature. He couldn't ascertain as to whether or not it was less _formal_, but it still seemed a lot more than diplomatic courtesy and disciplined behavior. Link provided a polite nod of his own back, not certain of how polite he was being in return.

"Good morning, Agent Link," the sergeant relaxed her posture a bit. "Did you rest well?"

Again, Link nodded. At least, all things considered, yes, he did sleep well; he wondered how much sleep was expected to be afforded when one's country was at all-out war, and he himself had been chased by an enemy superweapon. There was still a bit of lasting fatigue, but it was nothing he couldn't work himself out of. Probably just a bit of a morning routine of stiffness; he wondered if an hour of exercise would help with that at this point.

The sergeant seemed satisfied by this answer. "You were away for an entire day until last night," she smiled; now she was trying to move onto casual conversation…albeit a rather one-way one. "Up to one of those super secret things you're not supposed to talk about?"

The shrug Link gave in return was not accompanied by a smile, but the gesture had a sense of whim in it, a bit of humor; good-natured. He was careful about revealing classified information – and the previous operation on Anansi _had_ to be classified, considering what Jessica had told him last night – but it seemed that both of them were on that understanding. Humor was not forbidden. The sergeant laughed – it sounded more like a giggle – as Link threw a glance at the security office from which Jessica had burst through on the first morning of their arrival in Fort Garuda; that awkward incident seemed like it happened a lifetime ago, not a week ago.

Catching the subtle turn of his head, the sergeant immediately added, "Ah, Major Jessica is not here at the moment." Her tone as she said Jessica's rank and name was carefully neutral. "She has been temporarily recalled by MICO." Link looked curiously back towards the sergeant, who swiftly added sheepishly, "I was not informed as of why. For the time being, Captain Michaela has taken over responsibility for security in the diplomatic wings."

Link was thankful that his sunglasses shielded his eyes from the sergeant seeing what would otherwise have been a surprised, worried blink. There was some mild concern about the situation, of course, but there was a disproportionate amount of concern regarding how he viewed the situation. That discrepancies in the execution of security protocol and habits developed by interacting by the occupants of the wing developed by the officer responsible for security was one major source of worry, of course, but Link was somehow more concerned by the fact that Jessica had suddenly been recalled without warning. It was less about the potential for their security officer to be involved in classified activities for MICO as much as it was a mildly irritating thought of taking Jessica to and fro at whim; why assign her as a security officer if MICO was just going to replace her every now and then?

There was, of course, no direct evidence that she would return or – if she did – would be whisked away again in the future, but it was just a strange gut feeling Link had. If his battle against Anansi had been any indicator, _his_ gut feelings were something one should pay more attention to.

But the sergeant didn't notice Link's quietly troubled reaction as she suddenly seemed to remember something, ducking under her desk for a moment before pulling out something that looked surprisingly like a brochure. "Ah, my apologies," she said, sliding the rather classy-looking brochure across the reception desk towards Link – now, it looked like a hotel invitation to some particularly high-class event – and opened it for his viewing convenience. "I am supposed to provide this for all diplomatic guests, but…" she smiled sheepishly, apologetically, "…it's been hectic, as you can imagine. This is a miniature map of accessible areas in Fort Gaurda, and lists all facilities available for our dignitaries at your convenience."

Quietly thanking the sergeant with a quiet nod, Link took the brochure, recognizing the map of Fort Garuda almost instantly by its square-shaped layout, expanding with each lower level as all pyramids do. To his pleasant surprise as he walked towards the elevators, it seemed that there _was_ a fitness center in Garuda that was open to foreign dignitaries. Strangely enough, despite the fact that he logically _should_ have been sore after having spent the previous day hunting a twenty-five meter tall metallic spider war machine of death, Link felt like he needed a workout, or at least the chance to stretch a few muscles.

It was only a minute later that he stepped out of the elevator, emerging onto a floor several levels above. There was less of a military presence here, what with most military facilities being further below. The floor almost seemed like it was under the purview of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs instead of being part of a fort, although given the fact that the government effectively revolved around a central leadership symbolized by the generalissimo, this easily could've been true.

There were still guard details present, however, armed patrolwomen prowling the halls in two-woman teams. They didn't try to stop Link in any way or give him any odd glances, so he assumed that there wasn't anything wrong with him being here. However, as he passed a few more patrols, he suddenly realized that the soldiers _were_ giving him odd glances…although not necessarily in the way he might've expected. Polite smiles, courteous greetings, and the occasional giggle were sent in his direction both as and after he passed…and Link had a feeling that this was more than just the fact that there were so few men in Gerudo. Rather, the attitude towards him was quite different from before he destroyed Anansi. Quiet, excited whispers amongst the guards after he passed by told him just as much as they didn't, and although Link thought information on his operation to destroy Anansi was classified, he had a suspicion that word had somehow gotten around.

_Maybe it has to do with the gender-based society_, Link suggested silently, very much aware that he may be rather reliant on a stereotype or two for this conclusion.

Easily navigating through the halls and corridors, Link managed to find his way to the fitness center as he opened the double glass doors to the facilities. It was a modest setup, nothing too extravagant; it resembled a hotel-sized athletic club with a wide assortment of weights and machines and treadmills that did not take up too much space by itself. It was still several classes up from the average infantry fitness center, though, for military calisthenics. The "modest" impression lasted until Link's eyes lingered beyond the second pair of glass doors, where he saw what was apparently a gymnasium of some sort.

_No_, Link corrected himself as he closed the door behind him, walking forward a few steps. _Not a gymnasium, but a dojo_. Mats were laid out in an orderly fashion around the chamber, while a larger mat was fitted into the center. Racks lined the side wall, each filled with practice swords of every type. The sheen across its polished wooden floor indicated that it was highly maintained quite often.

Link wondered who would actually require a dojo up here to train in the increasingly rare art of fencing…then realized that he could easily come up with a few candidates for that, one of whom aside from himself was already in Fort Garuda.

There was a reception desk but no one manning it. That was understandable; it was not likely that anyone would be using the fitness center at this time, and every man and woman – mostly woman – would be needed for the wartime effort. Link suspected the only reason why there were guards posted at the diplomatic wing was because Princess Zelda was there. Still, though, the lights were on, the towels and water bottles stocked on the shelves, and the locker rooms seemingly still open. There even seemed to be cleaned and freshly-pressed robes for those wanting to take to the dojo…although Link knew that it was also the all-purpose unisex robes for exercise in general in Gerudo. Given everything here, he doubted anyone would mind if he used the facilities for a bit.

Minutes later, Link found himself in a fresh change of robes and working the weight machines across the fitness center. On a whim, he also took a quick look into the women's locker room after having been in the men's side; what he had thought were sounds of muted breathing and giggles had attracted his attention, but after dismissing that as possible sounds from a passing patrol, he noted with some amusement that the women's locker room was just as large as the men's, an abnormality given Gerudo's discrepancy in gender ratio…until he remembered that the fitness center was probably supposed to be for diplomatic guests; neither Hyrule nor Valent had the same gender imbalance.

The Joint Intelligence agent was just about to move to the bench press when the glass doors of the fitness center opened, and he found himself exchanging looks with a young Gerudo military aide, a junior staff officer of some sort. Although he initially assumed that perhaps she was the receptionist for these rooms after all, Link soon found himself to be slightly apprehensive as a troubled, almost difficult look crossed the young woman's face, as if something was wrong but she didn't know how to say it. This lasted for a full ten seconds until a second figure walked through the doors.

Link immediately stood straight as he identified the second person, the figure easily dominating the room by size and stature alone. It was not exactly submission to the generalissimo's authority, but Link recognized that Ganondorf, having seemingly already changed into his exercise robes, was still the sovereign of Gerudo, and a certain degree of diplomatic protocol – which had previously been negated only by the fact that he had met Ganondorf while under the authority of Princess Zelda – was to be adhered to. Ganondorf's gaze caught Link's, and the dark-skinned man gave a quiet, polite, respectful nod of acknowledgment to one of his guests.

"My apologies, generalissimo," the aide quickly said from beside her sovereign, her voice betraying a degree of unease; this was clearly a situation she was not accustomed to. She seemed to want to add something else, but did not, her eyes nervously gauging Link as if unwilling to say something in front of their Hylian guest.

Thankfully, Ganondorf successfully interpreted the inflection in the aide's voice, as well as her behavior; although his voice is gently reprimanding and chiding, it was not unkind. "He is from the Hylian delegation, and will stay with my blessings," he said simply to the lady he dwarfed in height and stature. "What would it say of my honor should I not be hospitable enough to allow my guest to use these facilities simply because I am using them?"

Despite seeming embarrassed by the rebuke, the young junior officer seemed much more relieved that the situation was now effectively out of her hands. "Pardon me, generalissimo," she apologized before saluting and bowing out, disappearing behind the glass doors before closing them behind her, leaving Link and Ganondorf alone, the latter of whom gestured respectfully to the rest of the room, as if asking the agent to continue what he had been doing.

The following ten minutes were some of the most awkward moments in the past few weeks that Link had experienced, even as he tried to concentrate on his workout routine. On one hand, as a lowly Joint Intelligence agent, using the same facilities as Ganondorf, the generalissimo and sovereign of Gerudo, was an activity loaded highly with anxiety and apprehension on Link's side, given the massive discrepancy in rank and status. On the other hand, the agent knew better than to excuse himself and leave; that would almost be insulting, given that Ganondorf had just given Link his blessings to stay.

"I was informed of the success of your mission as soon as we had confirmation." The words snapped Link to attention as his vision immediately swept over to Ganondorf, who sat on a bench press, looking at him with that oddly solemn expression that gave the leader of Gerudo so much quiet dignity. "There are no words I can use that can sufficiently convey my gratitude for your services."

A shake of Link's head seemed to say "think nothing of it". It _was_ nice to know, however, that his efforts were recognized and appreciated by _someone_.

Ganondorf didn't seem to think "nothing of it". "Few within Valent can wield the gunsword with any degree of skill, and outside Valentine territory fewer still," he continued, his deep, rumbling voice making a tinge of respect for Link's ability easy to miss if one was not attentive. "Doubtless your skills with the blade are finely honed."

That was rather flattering of Ganondorf to say…but Link was still of the opinion that it had a lot more to do with luck than skill. Still, not having much to say, he simply nodded politely.

Still, that didn't stop Link from being surprised as Ganondorf, in that same solemn tone, said, "If it does not offend, I would be honored to test the blade of the one who bested Anansi."

Link stared at Ganondorf for a moment, the hope that he didn't seem too rude or obnoxious hitting him only a moment later. Doubtlessly the generalissimo was referring to the dojo just next door, but…was he talking of a _spar_ between the two of them? The agent wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to react to that. Was it just a courteous thing Ganondorf was saying, or was he being serious? His eternally stoic expression and stable voice made things hard to tell…until Link saw it in the eyes of the man sitting across from him: Pride. The fire of seeing a challenge and unwilling to watch it just walk away. The generalissimo was being serious.

Still, Link had to wonder exactly what Ganondorf was thinking, a man in the upper military brass, the sovereign of his country, a leader in his fifties, challenging a young Joint Intelligence agent in the prime of his youth…at least, until Link suddenly remembered the ceremonial sword the generalissimo had carried with him when he received Zelda for the first time on the helipads of Fort Garuda and Link's suspicion that the sword wasn't just ceremonial. That, and the fact that the briefing dossiers on the generalissimo had indicated that his military exploits as a young officer in the past had won him the infamous nickname "Desert Tiger"…

* * *

Second Lieutenant Kathy was exhausted. She was fairly certain that everyone in the salvaging unit, having been perched over their computers and surveillance equipment for more than twelve hours now, shared the same sentiments, but she knew fairly well that, until this workaholic Major Juno from military intelligence – the 1st Special Investigative Unit – was satisfied with the run-through of all the data they had managed to collect, they likely were not going anywhere, never mind getting any sleep. Twice Colonel Kurt passed by, and Kathy threw him covert, pleading looks in hopes that he'd cut in and give the salvaging team a break; he missed Kathy's look the first time, and only offered a bemused grimace and walked away the second time, clearly indicating that getting involved in a jurisdiction war with someone from military intelligence was the last thing he wanted to do.

In other words, salvaging was on its own. Kathy was now sure that Kurt probably hated them in some way or another.

"This part," Juno leaned in over one of the technicians' shoulders as she surveyed his work on a computer running through all the surveillance data, pointing at the screen as the video recording, taken from a security surveillance camera on the corner of an intersection at October City. "Clean up this noise, then tag. I think I see subjects here, here, and…_here_. Go."

That was what they had been doing for the last twelve-or-so hours. Most of the surveillance footages from all over October City that they had collected were damaged beyond repair, but some of them still contained imagery that was moreorless viewable. The problem was that a lot of them were still somewhat unclear or, in some cases, mildly damaged. That didn't stop Juno from getting every person with a computer in salvaging to start cleaning up the videos, however. Computers were not smart enough to auto-clean the imagery, making it clearer and cutting out the noise, so it had to be done by hand, a process that was extremely time-consuming and involving much trial and error. Salvaging had told Juno that it was impossible, and hoped that the intelligence major was none the wiser. No such luck, however; she had seated herself before a computer, cleaned up a thirty-second piece of footage to prove it could be done, then got everyone to work.

Then there was tagging. After pulling out a map of October City – at least, October City before Anansi decide to create a crater in the middle of downtown – Juno got everyone to tag every person that appeared on the tapes, corresponding the location of the camera with the time each person appeared on the footage, trying to keep track of the people that appeared on the videos and then corresponding them with where they went. The problem was that, even with the imagery was cleaned, everything was still quite fuzzy. There were things that computer-rendering simply couldn't fix, and that wasn't even accounting for the fact that most surveillance cameras in the area were not high-resolution, which made identification of the pixilated faces of Valentine soldiers that had formerly been patrolling the area all the more difficult. Contrary to some beliefs, there was no government supercomputer that allowed for the automatic identification of persons or objects by matching the images against a pre-existing database; everything was done by hand. It didn't help that no one in salvaging knew anyone that had been defending October City, leading to tags of individuals reading "NCO with mustache", "short guy", "female officer 2", and other less-than-specific names. And, only then, they could only guess.

The officer tiredly began to manually clean the video footage even as he tried to ignore the growling of his stomach; they were at least allowed to leave for lunch, but Juno had yet to dismiss them for dinner. Somehow, he didn't have the feeling that asking to go for a meal was a good idea. Juno's slave-driver tendencies seemed only tolerable by the fact that she was also working unceasingly when not busy giving orders…and by the fact that, by having the capabilities to give orders, she was a superior officer.

"Wait," Juno's voice suddenly cut in with an unusual, surprised edge in her voice that automatically made Kathy – as well as a few other officers in the tent – look around over their shoulders, watching as the intelligence major swiftly walked over to one of the computer screens running surveillance videos – the officer who sat in front of the screen flinched, knowing that he was under a great deal of pressure now. "Wait, wait, wait, wait." She stopped right behind the officer, placing a hand on top of the back of his chair, leaned over him as she took a better look at the screen. "Rewind. Back to thirty-eight point five." The officer rolled the clip back. "Play." The clip started playing again. For a moment, it seemed as if it was just a normal surveillance video overlooking a street – a poor-quality black-and-white one, at that, for the information tags on it showed that it was recovered from a cheap commercial camera for a pawn shop – with nothing noteworthy whatsoever.

Until, a second later, something suddenly flashed across the screen, moving down the street so hard that it only registered on several of the camera's grainy frames…followed by a massive shadow that seemed like it was Anansi.

"_That_," Juno pointed at the screen, instantly expecting the technician to know exactly what she was talking about. "Go back, play the video frame-by-frame until you get that first motorcycle."

The video clip was rewind again, then played in slow motion. It was a painful affair to watch, the camera's grainy quality especially evident as it was played frame-by-frame. Thankfully, some of the static was cleared up just as the first object entered the frame, giving a good image of shape, contour, texture, and some level of shading indicating at possible colors. The object in question was, unmistakably, a motorcycle.

"I've seen this motorcycle somewhere earlier," Juno murmured, frowning, her hand on her chin as she became deeply contemplative, concentrated. "We need to clean up this image, sharpen and magnify. And pull up the video that…" she distractedly pointed towards one of the computer screens in the salvaging tent without actually turning around, "…the one on _this_ screen half an hour ago."

Uncomfortable looks were exchanged beneath Juno's gaze; the technicians of salvaging wished the major would be more specific on the matter. However, the intelligence officer's attention had already rapidly rotated back to the recording at hand.

"Divide the frames," Juno ordered, to which the technician in front of her responded by clicking a certain set of commands. The computer took a few seconds to process the commands before the software turned all thirteen frames of the half-second in which the motorcycle was within the video into images. Thumbnails popped onto the screen neatly like a slideshow interface, and Juno scrutinized them with squinted eyes before pointing at one frame where the entire motorcycle and its rider was visible and close enough…or, at least, relatively close enough compared to the other frames. "This one looks like our best bet. Clean it up." She turned around to the technician – in this case, Kathy – to whom she had ordered to pull up a vaguely-identified video from earlier, scowled, "Where's the clip I asked for?"

Kathy was appropriately sheepish, if not apologetic. Hints in her voice betrayed a certain amount of fear, even. "Which video, ma'am?" she asked timidly.

Juno's expression was anything but pleasant. "The one…_goddammit_," she muttered and brushed Kathy's hands aside from the keyboard before taking control, rapidly opening and closing separate folders of categorized videos, browsing through them at an alarmingly fast pace, uttering her next words with slow, thick concentration. "I'd like to not have to do everything myself, _thank you very much_."

Again, covert, uncomfortable glances were shared; exactly when did Juno do everything herself for the last twelve-or-so hours?

A few more rapid clicks, and Juno managed to bring up the desired video before she straightened up again, a withering glare descending down upon poor Kathy in the seat before her. "May I assume that you can at least clean up the image, or will I have to do that as well?" she asked in a deadpan, condescending manner.

"No, ma'am," Kathy replied meekly, then, catching a look from Juno, swiftly amended, "I-I mean, yes, ma'am, I can do it myself from here." Regardless, the major kept an eye on Kathy for several seconds, ensuring that she was indeed enhancing the image, before turning her attention back on the first image they had extracted. It was now cleaned and its quality was, for the most part, passable. A few minutes later, Kathy reported that she had managed to clean up her video clip as well, and Juno was immediately perched over her shoulder, looking at the divided frames, each showing each fraction of a second that the motorcycle was on the video clip.

"There," she finally pointed at the image that gave the best perspective on the speeding vehicle. "Merge frames."

The two computers that had the still, digitally-enhanced frames that Juno wanted networked with each other, and the first image was transmitted to Kathy's computer, popping up on her computer screen just seconds later. Several commands later, and the two images interposed upon each other, meeting at where the motorcycle was.

It was a perfect match.

"That's _definitely_ the same one." Juno's voice was contemplative as she pointed at the vehicle on the screen. "The same motorcycle. Same model at least. Pull up a database for vehicles." She was quite certain that the same motorcycle being chased by Anansi in both video clips was not a coincidence. "And start skimming through the rest of the evidence we've salvaged, see if there's anything that catches the same motorcycle."

Kathy ran through a database of all Valentine equipment and vehicles on the computer. When she was prompted for a password to access secret experimental prototypes, Juno entered a password that completed access to the database. Several minutes were spent manually looking through the images of every military motorcycle in the Valentine arsenal before Kathy concluded, "That's definitely not one of ours, ma'am."

"Comparison with Hylian civilian models?" another technician suggested.

"Don't be an idiot," Juno snapped, pointing at the forward weaponry on the vehicle. "Machine guns. It's definitely military. Magnify on the rider."

Two clicks, and the image zoomed in on the rider. The image had been digitally enhanced enough to make out some details despite the blurriness and graininess, and the technicians all tried to lean in and peer closer; the faster they could identify this rider, the faster they could finish their job, the faster they can have dinner, if there was any dinner still left for them.

"What does that look like to you?" Juno murmured, also looking intensely at the image before her. She _had_ a vague idea of what it was, but she wondered if bias and paranoia were getting in the way; a second or third opinion would be nice.

Kathy shrugged in below Juno's chin, indicating a level of uncertainty in her answer…but it was still an answer to confirm the intelligence officer's suspicions. "Looks like one of ours," she murmured quietly before looking up at Juno's face above her anxiously. "Military, male…special forces, maybe?" The other technicians around her exchanged quiet murmurs of vague agreement, indicating that it seemed to be the consensus among all of them, Juno included. It wasn't just bias or paranoia.

Juno took a look at the facts: Unidentified male in Valentine special forces attire riding a military vehicle that was clearly not of Valentine origin, consistently being chased by Anansi throughout all relevant video clips.

Unconfirmed but logical conclusion: Infiltrator or saboteur – likely Hylian, given Gerudo's gender ratio – masquerading as Valentine special forces.

Juno's eyes narrowed. _Bloody hell_, she mentally scowled, dark clouds forming in her mind. _Special forces. Alexandria _was_ right after all_.

She quickly ran the options through her head. The evidence thus far was not conclusive, but it _did_ give her certain leads that were useful to follow up on. She was also fairly convinced that she currently had the upper hand; she had reached ground zero before anyone else, meaning she should have the most significant quantities of relevant evidence. Still, Juno did not find that to be sufficient reason to be complacent; now that chances of an infiltrator in special forces were high, the ball had effectively bounced into an area where Alexandria had the home field advantage. Juno needed to negate that before Alexandria had a chance to act.

"All evidence is now officially under authority of the 1st Special Investigative Unit," Juno announced crisply as she rose to her full height, her voice carrying as much cold authority as she could muster; there could be no room for misinterpretation or question here. "Furthermore, I am issuing an A-17; disclosure of this evidence and any information regarding its contents or existence to anyone beyond myself is strictly prohibited by authority of the National Defense Committee. Not another from military intelligence, not your superior officers, not any other member of the 1st Special Investigative Unit. You will tell all inquirers that there was no evidence, or that it has been sealed after no conclusive finds." Her eyes narrowed threateningly. "Transgression on these orders is punishable by death."

The surrounding officers exchanged extremely uncomfortable and nervous glances; Juno clearly was not screwing around.

Already, Juno was collecting her personal belongings and equipment, seemingly prepared to leave, and being in a hurry as she did so. "Continue to process, clean, and tag all remaining evidence," she ordered, shoving the last of her neatly folded documents into a nearby folder which she immediately deemed her own and confiscated after emptying its contents. "I want all data transferred to my server within the next twelve hours." And, without waiting to see if anyone had any questions, swiftly and briskly marched out of the tent, looking for a military transport to commandeer to take her back to the airfields of October City International Airport. She needed to get air transport as soon as possible, commandeer one if possible.

It was risky, but Juno figured that she needed to handle a situation in Southern Gerudo personally.

* * *

Of all the duties she had to perform as the director of Gerudo's Military Intelligence Coordination Office, Emi despised having to deal with the Armed Defense Staff. It had less to do with the belief that the admirals and generals of the army, air force, and navy were complete imbeciles – connections in Gerudo got you to certain places, but one generally had to be quite competent to actually get a seat on the highest possible military authority barring the Generalissimo and the Defense Minister – as much as it was that she found the idea of a military democracy absurd. There was too much of a discrepancy in opinions amongst dozens of Gerudo's top brass, and too little time to make the decisions that mattered.

And speaking of the Defense Minister, Emi's single eye wandered over the crowd of generals and admirals in Gerudo's main briefing antechamber – this was an evening briefing exclusive to Gerudo's military brass, a highly secret meeting where the Hylians were completely uninformed and the generalissimo was not present – before settling its gaze upon a face she hadn't seen in a while: Defense Minister Sydney. Emi had relished the first two days of the war when the civilian head of Gerudo's armed forces had been pinned down in Leh during the surprise Valentine blitzkrief before local air force assets managed to safely escort her back to Fort Garuda. Now that she had returned to Gerudo's seat of power, however, the director of MICO spent every waking minute of her work wondering just how much Sydney – a civilian who had never received military training in a day of her life – and her uninformed preconceptions would get in the way of _real_ decisions that needed to be made.

Emi knew, of course, that Sydney possessed the logistical skills to run a military during peacetime and the diplomatic skills to make for a good politician. That said, however, this certainly wasn't peacetime. There were thousands of officers in Gerudo to run logistics for the armed forces; losing Sydney would not be a great loss. And if diplomacy was so important, Sydney should've joined the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, not the Ministry of Defense.

But that was, of course, Emi's own opinion, not the opinion of Gerudo's collective of political elites. She was hardly afraid to speak her mind, but she wasn't stupid. There were productive remarks she could make and unproductive remarks. Anything related to Sydney likely fell into the latter category. Besides, if she gave a direct order, it was likely that all the debate that would otherwise be shared amongst the Armed Defense Staff would be overridden…except Sydney had not made a direct decision – always leaving the decision-making to the Armed Defense Staff – in the last fifteen months while in office.

"I will also note that this operation stands a realistic chance of losing one or two of our capital ships," Emi continued with her briefing, her eye continued to focus on Sydney as if emphasizing this for the Defense Minster, who sat contemplatively in the front row with her hands folded neatly on her lap, "perhaps even one of our planes. Full estimations of potential losses are outlined in page eight of your briefing packets. In the end, however, we will be insulated from most of the potential damage; it will be largely a Hylian operation. And I see it as a fair tradeoff for Jormungand."

"Let's be realistic here for a second, Emi." The interruption caused the director to throw a withering glare in the direction of the speaker, an air force lieutenant colonel who had raised her hand slightly above the table to pause Emi and indicate that she was the one speaking. "The operation with Anansi was amazing, nothing short of a miracle. No one denies that. But asking for a second miracle is too much."

"The destruction of Anansi was not a miracle," Emi sounded unimpressed, even a bit insistent. Something about calling a planned and strategized plan a "miracle" rubbed off on her the wrong way. "It was the best option available at the time with the resources we had through coordinated planning."

It was nearly impossible to _not_ detect Emi's rising ire, but the lieutenant colonel attempted to remain diplomatic, a luxury afforded to her by their equivalent ranks. "It still doesn't change the fact that the odds of succeeding are extraordinarily slim. It's best to leave our counteroffensive options to the fleet."

That incurred murmurs of agreement – or perhaps just general approval of ass-kissing, in Emi's opinion – from the naval side of the brass, but the director of MICO was unconvinced, her voice challenging, if not a bit haughty, qualities diminished by her gravelly voice. "We have the strongest ground forces on the continent. It didn't do much to stop Anansi. The Hylians have the strongest navy, yet they're slowly being torn apart. How much of a chance do you think our fleet would have?"

"Enemy naval opposition will be severely reduced by the time they reach Gerudo waters by Hylian naval forces," reasoned an admiral heatedly; she was becoming impatient with the strategic deadlock.

Emi actually had to suppress a smug, condescending smile that threatened to evolve into a more offensive laugh. "With respect, ma'am, you don't know that. You don't know that, because I don't know that yet. MICO has yet to achieve conclusive evidence suggesting Valentine forces will be weakened in any way following their offensive with the Hylian navy, and if naval intelligence knew, we would know."

Still, murmurs, quiet exchanges of private opinions, were heard, shared by generals and admirals in the briefing room with those closest to them, aligned to their own political camps. Thoughts, reservations, plans were discussed in whispers, a trade of ideas and rationalizations that were ultimately meaningless. In Emi's experience, it generally took the Armed Defense Staff eighteen hours at the very least to agree on something without intervention from the generalissimo.

Emi didn't have eighteen hours.

"With respect, I will need a decision as quickly as possible," she urged in what sounded almost like a bored, irritated voice. "I do not know how long our informant will still remain in contact with us."

There was only a marginal rise in urgency, and a significant rise in irritation; Emi was widely disliked by her peers for being overcritical – and very few people in the Armed Defense Staff had problems admitting that to her face – but they recognized that she, like her counterpart in Hylian Joint Intelligence, had a knack for delivering results. Still the discussions continued, however, with no immediate breakthrough or decision looking like they were going to be made anytime soon…had it not been for the unexpected interruption by one person Emi had least expected to speak out.

"I want to be sure of one thing." Heads turned with more than just a mild degree of surprise; the familiar yet unfamiliar voice of Defense Minister Syndey suddenly spoke out to MICO Director Emi, a rarity in briefings such as these. "So long as we abide by your plan, even if we fail to eliminate Jormungand, will it negatively affect the current status of the Hylian fleet in the near foreseeable future for this war?"

Emi's eyes narrowed suspiciously; that Sydney was speaking now was a possibly favorable development, but she doubted there were no ulterior motives. "That depends on what you mean by 'near foreseeable future', minister."

"Are we assuming that the Hylian fleet can hold out against Jormungand?"

That was a surprisingly apt observation from Sydney. Emi actually had to put forth some effort to hide a slight inflection of surprise in her tone. "Perhaps, ma'am," she shrugged. "But I see your point. Ultimately, we shouldn't."

Sydney accepted this with a nod. "The answer is a no, then."

Again, Emi shrugged; she could see where this going…an unexpected but certainly favorable development. "Something like that, minister."

Another nod was the only response that could be extracted out of Gerudo's defense minister as she sat back against her chair quietly, her expression having a strangely conclusive, satisfied look to it. All around her came an eerie, uncomfortable silence as the Armed Defense Staff exchanged a strange combination of apprehensive, surprised, relieved, and resigned looks behind the defense minister, but the unspoken message was clear, the necessity of the silence understood. Almost as if detecting this change in atmosphere behind her, General Meryl, sitting beside Sydney as the Chairwoman of the Armed Defense Staff, turned around to look at the congregation of Gerudo's military elite. Nods were quietly – sometimes reluctantly – given, no signs of objection shown anywhere.

Five minutes later, Emi marched briskly out of the briefing room, preceded only over protocol by Sydney and Meryl; her hand clutched onto signed approval of her operation plan by the Armed Defense Staff. All obstacles were now out of the way, all conditions cleared. Now she just had to put everything in motion.

* * *

**Exoria File #016  
Valentine Military**

Valent's geography has been the greatest factor in terms of military development. The entire nation is covered mostly with hills and mountains, making domestic transportation a major difficulty since antiquated times. It is said that tough environments breed tough men, and the ancient Valentines adapted to the harsh and unforgiving terrain, leading to a highly-trained and well-built infantry corps. On the same vein, it was therefore unsurprising that Valent eventually became the nation to invent the first airplane; soon, the government itself sponsored industrialization programs aimed at developing infrastructure and economy via a massive fleet of planes that finally cut down on trade and transportation costs. Valent's reliance on air power is obvious, and it commands the greatest air force in the world, with internationally renowned ace pilots appearing in the country every once in a while. The Valentine ground army remains strong, but the true gem of Valent's military is their special forces outfit, a small, elite corps of autonomous and fast-striking gunsword-wielding infantry widely regarded as the best infantry unit on the continent. On the other hand, the Valentine navy is considered to be its greatest weakness, the government having sacrificed naval development for its emphasis on air power. The monarch is the commander-in-chief of the Valentine military, but most military decisions are made on a day-to-day basis by the National Defense Committee.

* * *

Author's Note: Readers of the past few chapters have probably noticed my tendency to apologize incessantly about the delays in updates and chapters to _Exoria_, followed immediately – or, really, _not_-so-immediately – by another delay in updates and chapters attached with an apology. For those who are wondering if I am quite lacking in the backbone department (and for those sick of my apologies or wondering what excuse I have this time), however, I will announce that I will not be apologizing for the delay in this chapter due to two words:

I've graduated.

Yes, my days as an undergraduate are now officially days of the past, and I have my bachelor's degree now, meaning that I now have to look for a job. That said, however, even job-hunting has to be put aside for some other commitments I am not at liberty to discuss at the moment; needless to say, _Exoria_ is not one of them. I'm still not sure how this will affect my schedule, but I can at least promise to do what is within my ability to provide corresponding updating chapters. Which, at this point, doesn't really mean much, but let's just say I've come too far to let this project wither away. So long as circumstances permit it, you can expect _Exoria_ updates, just at questionable speeds.

Not much to say for now, so let's respond to some reviews.

Me: _Hey I have been reading your story and I think it is good. At one point I read and thought that it was a good story that the author had stopped writing midstory because you hadn't updated in awhile. I must say I like the references and connections to the game. I would like to point out that I like Durandara. She reminds me of Cortana. My favorite part has to be Epona though. By the way there is a laser that is in development but i am not sure what it does. Boeing I believe is making it._

As I just said, I've spent far too much effort and have come too far in writing _Exoria_ to give up now. Barring something disastrous that I hope _won't_ happen, this show isn't ending anytime soon. Of course, it won't be finishing anytime soon either, given my recent updating speed…

Durandara is a reference to both _Marathon_ and the source from which the name was derived, the sword Durandal (which shares a legendary "ancestry" with the sword Curtana, from which the name of _Halo_'s AI was derived, both of them having been owned by Charlemagne). As both _Marathon_ and _Halo_ are Bungie games, I couldn't resist making the reference. Also, the laser you speak of will also be mounted to large aircraft…and I don't think Epona comes close to that size. Aside from certain aspects of this story, I don't want to get too far into science fiction territory, so lasers – for the most part – are going to be a no-no. But thank you for your review regardless.

Jeff: _I like this story. I think this might be of interest to you to help you gauge realism._

_.com/article_17019__

_I hope you write more._

_Sincerely, me._

I think there's a quote somewhere that goes, "Reality is often stranger than fiction." That said, I _am_ trying to maintain a degree of plausibility, and movie directors in the past have had to tone down certain aspects in films that are supposed to portray real events…simply because they felt the audiences may not believe it. I struggle with this near-invisible line as well. But, yes, I have read the article, although it's nice to be reminded of it by reader; thank you.

Planguy: _It sucks that Lily died. I know it's your perogative to off a character in your own story, but it always upsets me when an expendable character is killed in a story to provide drama. And make no mistake that Lily was an expendable character. I suppose that bullets don't distinguish between the guilty and the innocent, but they do between a protagonist or a major character and a minor one._

_I still enjoy the story but the death of expendable characters, usually with the justification of realism, is something I see too often. I mean, if we're going strictly by realism then a lot of stories should end in the middle of the action as the protagonist takes a stray bullet/sword blow, yet this doesn't happen because the protagonist is protected by the plot._

War is generally defined by the need to kill and the deaths of others. _Someone_ has to die; if not a major character, then a minor one. In this case, it happened to be a minor one. I'm not going to say for the record whether or not I am comfortable with killing major characters, but – at this point – I think you've read enough of _Exoria_ to formulate an educated guess for yourself. As for why protagonists survive…well, the way I see it, there are people who survive wars, after all. There haven't been many wars where all combatants were killed in the end. The protagonist is merely one of those lucky many; he also just happens to be the one with a more colorful wartime story to tell to his children.

deadaleta: _Do you, by any chance, know a show called 'Eureka'? Well, the modernism and futuristic jumbo gadjets remind me of it. And... if you make either of the next super weapons a form of a dragon of some sorts, underwater or 'knight-in-shining-armor-please-help-me', god forbid you make the form of the dragon ultimately cliche. Please. _

_Spelling and Grammar wise you are fine. Of course someone who uses some form of complex words are going to make errors here and there. Weh al du. 8D *I shall poketh thy arm. Poketh*_

_I can't help but notice, the superweapons have the type of special capabilities that would match the 'golden godesses', as well as gerudo is of brute land force and, in my mind, their uniform usually has something to do with red, gold or brown, but I forgot. ^^; The Hylians specialize in water, and wear blue uniforms and specialize in army, and the Valentines wear, of course, and ironically, the hero's green garb, partially modernized, and specialize in air force. Of course, any gamer of zelda would recognize that. And most people have probably already pointed that out. And I'm glad you didn't settle with legend of zelda bosses' names for the names of the bosses here. I think it's much to cliche, but you have been able to put in a classic zelda touch here and there with the modern world. And I'm not just saying the characters either, because of course THEY'RE going to be there._

_Sad for the kid, but again, can't save anyone, otherwise it couldn't be a proper story. I just think it friggin' sucks the jack $$ didn't die, to! He SO deserves it! Well, not everyone can die, either on the other hand. BTW; can you come up with a description of what kind of alloy Link's gunsword is made of? Or just something that can rarely ever break, that you can't think the name of. That's probably what I would do, so don't be sad if you can't come up with anything._

I fear I've never even _heard_ of _Eureka_, unless you speak of _Eureka Seven_, but I somehow doubt this is the case. As for the forms of the remaining superweapons…that's classified information. But, yes, the comparisons were very much intentional and in line with the depictions in _Zelda_…at least where Hyrule and Gerudo are concerned; however, the Hylians specialize in the navy, not the army; given that Hyrule partially emulated the United States, both have an emphasis on naval forces.

Ultimately, there are some people who live and some people who die. I don't think it's up to us to gauge exactly who _deserves_ to live or die, but I _did_ deliberately have the person who most people would consider deserves to die more – a male teenager drug addict with a serious attitude problem when put against a young girl who just wants to see her parents again – survive to make a point, that the good don't always survive and the bad don't always die. War is indiscriminate and kills anybody; we're just looking at it from the perspective of someone who survives.

But thank you for your enthusiasm; I'm glad this has just made it onto your list of things to read.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

The silence didn't bother Link this time as he rose from bed, and somewhere in the back of his head formed the idle thought that humans do indeed adapt well to circumstances. Blue eyes slowly opened, looking upwards at a familiar ceiling. Consciousness swiftly returned to his head as he roused, slowly rising, the sheets slipping off of his body, before finding his feet. He looked around – he doubted that there'd be any trouble in his own diplomatic suite in Fort Garuda, but it was a habit, the surveying of the world around him as he woke, that had served him well so far – and, satisfied all was well, headed for the bathroom to take care of the morning necessities at nine in the morning.

Nine. Ninth day of the war and counting.

Now that he thought about it, Link realized that, since his return from October City, he had been left out of the loop in regards to developments in the current war. He had never asked, of course, but he didn't hear much in the way of news as to how either Hyrule or Gerudo fared against the Valentine offensive. There was less of a frantic, anxious atmosphere around Fort Garuda, so Link could only guess that either full parity had been achieved, or things were actually beginning to look better on their end now that the destruction of Anansi created a dent – no matter how minor – in the Valentine strategy.

Well, he probably wasn't "left out of the loop" per se. Everyone else was probably just being courteous to him, trying to make it seem as if – now that Link had dealt with one Valentine superweapon – the rest of the war was their problem to deal with, their burden to shoulder. It was nice of them, Link conceded, but, on a personal level, knowing virtually nothing of recent developments was a state that left an intelligence agent such as himself on the edge. He'd rather be informed and appraised, if not there in the defense effort himself.

Minutes later, he was fresh and dressed again, his gunblade holstered and his sunglasses donned, stepping out of his suite and locking the door behind him. Considering that it wasn't likely that he'd be called anytime soon, Link decided that he might as well see more of Garuda today. His previous attempt to navigate the city ended with an urgent recall by Leonore that led to the military briefing in Fort Garuda that revealed the existence of Anansi to the Gerudo Armed Defense Staff for the first time.

He didn't get far, however; his attention was instantly attracted by the presence of a Gerudo woman standing right down the hallway in front of Zelda's room. That immediately alerted Link, who felt compelled to move forward and see what was going on. The dark-skinned woman, however, noticed the agent's approach, and offered a small Gerudo bow; either she recognized him, or it was just a courtesy she extended to all guests here. "Good morning, Agent Link," she greeted, proving the former to be true.

Link suppressed a frown; it could simply be because he had just woken up and was struggling to get back in touch with his observational capacities and memories, but he somehow couldn't place a name or an identity to this familiar-looking woman. It embarrassed him a bit, somehow, considering he was usually good with names and faces. The last few days had worn him down more than he had thought. He needed to recover as quickly as possible.

The woman twitched her lips once – Link suspected that it was her own way of broadcasting an amused smile had she been better at facially expressing herself – but she seemed neither offended or condescending. "I'm Doctor Taylor, Agent Link," the woman replied simply. Link wondered at that, at how "simply" seemed to be the apt description about the woman's tone, her choice of words, everything. _A simple, down-to-earth woman, this Doctor Taylor_, the Joint Intelligence agent surmised thoughtfully. "We met briefly when you first arrived here in Fort Garuda. You were asked to leave the room when her Highness disrobed for my analysis of her condition."

That stirred Link's memory; indeed, the recollection of that night – that night that seemed so long ago – returned to his mind, the night where he had safely brought Zelda here to Fort Garuda. And that woman was indeed in that memory, the dark-skinned doctor and her dispassionate, professional attitude. If he recalled correctly, the doctor had also been around to check on her Highness while Emi was assessing Link's grasp of the Valentine language, which also seemed so long ago.

Now that Link thought about it, there may have been a check-up while he was gone sabotaging Anansi as well, a suspicion that Taylor confirmed after she knocked on the door of Zelda's suite – she didn't announce herself, which probably indicated a lack of interest in strictly adhering to court protocol, or, more simply, that she had been expected – and turned back to Link, remarking, "This is her Highness' fourth check-up. Her condition has improved significantly; if all goes as I have hoped, it will be her last."

That was good to hear, but Link couldn't help but wondered at an unintentional jab towards him in regards to that statement. _Was my escort of her Highness from Hyrule City to Fort Garuda _that_ much of a detriment on her health?_

Pondering that question for a moment, Link eventually decided that he was just going to attribute the entire thing to the fussy, overcautious nature most of these royal doctors seemed to have, a decision that was made just as the doors to Zelda's suite swung inwards, and Impa's face appeared within the widened gap. "Doctor Taylor," Impa smiled at the familiar face and opened the door wider, allowing her to see – with some pleasant surprise, it seemed – Link with the widened line of sight. "Agent Link. Please, come on in."

Taylor gave a short Gerudo bow before stepping through the open doors, followed shortly afterwards by Link, who – out of habit – spared a quick glance, a threat assessment, down the outside corridor before stepping in. His eyes immediately caught two familiar figures – Zelda and Leonore – already seated on the couches, poring over two computers and loads of paperwork that cluttered the desk and spilled over the floor. Link subconsciously raised an eyebrow; it had been just more than a day – almost two – since he was last in this room, yet it seemed that Zelda's diplomatic suite had gotten exponentially messier…which seemed almost impossible, given that housekeeping went through these rooms all day. Either her Highness had shooed housekeeping away, preventing them from disrupting any arcane sort of meticulous order she had organized her papers and documents, or the workload had hit a sudden increase lately.

Leonore gave a polite nod to Taylor in response to the doctor's own bow before the director's gaze drifted over Taylor's shoulder and onto Link. An amused smile formed on her lips, a consistent sign that, as Link had long discovered, she was about to tease or rib him somehow again. "Speak of the devil," she quipped smartly, knowing that she'd only invoke her own agent's curiosity. "We were just talking about you, Link."

The agent made a face, but otherwise didn't react much even as Zelda and Taylor had a small, quick discussion about the princess' current condition. To be entirely honest, Link felt somewhat guilty about not having returned to her Highness' side since his successful sabotage of Anansi. He had been conflicted on different levels, as while he was still officially Zelda's interim bodyguard, he also had orders to take his leave, and had received neither request nor order to return to the princess' side. His respect for her privacy – developed in the week before the outbreak of the war – also meant Link was loathe to actually knock on her door and let himself in. The Joint Intelligence agent hoped his uneasiness was at least understandable, if not justifiable.

But there was still Leonore's teasing to deal with, a pressure that Impa, thankfully, alleviated as she returned to her seat in the formation of couches from behind, having closed the doors behind her. "A certain young Gerudo officer let slip that you and the generalissimo had been having a friendly duel somewhere upstairs yesterday," she explained; despite the way it could be interpreted, the Hylian chief of staff hardly sounded displeased at all. In fact, her tone was almost amused, as if emulating Leonore. That was, admittedly, somewhat disconcerting to Link; now that it seemed that Zelda, Impa, and Leonore were aware of what had transpired yesterday, the agent would've imagined them to be at least somewhat _wary_ over the fact that he had been seen _sparring_ with the generalissimo of Gerudo, and that they'd at least throw in some kind of remark about a political _faux pas_.

Thankfully, Zelda finished her discussion with Taylor at that exact moment, cut in with perfect timing. "It would've been less politically respectful for you to have declined the offer," she reassured Link with an equally reassuring smile. "From what I've heard, you handled the situation exceptionally well."

That was relieving to hear. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to the news of the spar now having been spread around Fort Garuda, but he supposed worse things could've happened. Considering that the mock spar ended in a tie, that was probably as much face-saving as Link could afford both for himself and for the Gerudo generalissimo. That was an accomplishment in itself, especially in light of Link's swordfight with Ganondorf. It was true that he had rarely ever had a chance to fight against anyone in a swordfight, and there had only ever been two other individuals in Joint Intelligence who had enough experience in swordplay to spar with him from time-to-time. That said, despite the limited experience in fighting another opponent who _also_ wielded a melee weapon, he was convinced that Ganondorf was likely one of the toughest opponents he would ever meet with another blade. The man was not only physically stronger than Link – it was hard to imagine that the man was in his fifties – but he moved with speed, skill, and grace, a deadly combination not immediately attributed to a man so imposing and well-built. The generalissimo managed to keep the pressure on throughout the entire spar, pressing on the Joint Intelligence agent, keeping him ever desperate for an opening. And, even then, Link had a distinct feeling that Ganondorf was holding back.

Then, again, Link had been holding back himself as well; challenging as the fight was, it would've been poor form to actually strike or win against the generalissimo of Gerudo, considering all the diplomatic implications involved…and the fact that he was also their host. Maybe it all balanced out somehow.

That still wasn't any reason to take Ganondorf lightly, though. Quite the contrary, in fact; Link now saw why he was called the "Desert Tiger". The stories of his military prowess had not been just an exaggeration after all.

Link couldn't help but notice a certain beat in the conversation, though, a subdued tempo that allowed for gaps, barely perceptible moments of silence, certain words and phrases drawn out slightly longer than they needed to be. He didn't need to guess too hard to figure out why the pace of their exchanges had slowed: They were waiting for Doctor Taylor to leave before priority topics – ones that were better discussed when there were no prying ears – could be discussed in private.

"You're fine as far as I can tell, your Highness," Taylor was finally heard saying with a curt nod, she and Princess Zelda rising from where they sat on a sofa in tandem. "I don't think further visits from me will do anything but distract you from your work, but you can always send for me if there's anything."

The princess smiled graciously, gratefully. "Thank you, Doctor Taylor," she gave a small bow of her head, imitating the Gerudo greeting and parting custom as best she could.

Taylor made sure her bow was greater than that of Zelda's. "It's what I'm here for, your Highness," she said simply before, rising back to her height, preparing to leave the room; there was a chance she had realized she needed to disappear from the scene. "If you will excuse me."

Only after Doctor Taylor bowed out and disappeared behind the double doors of Zelda's suite – Link had instinctively prepared to escort her out, but, surprisingly, Impa got there first – did the princess continue their earlier conversation. "It was actually good you managed to run into the generalissimo," she continued, surprising the Joint Intelligence agent a bit with something of a minor revelation. "The man has been increasingly difficult to get in touch with lately."

Subconsciously, Link instinctively shot an inquiring look towards Leonore, who caught it; the amusement at his reaction was not difficult to miss. "Communications with Hylian forces is still near-impossible," she quipped. "It's gotten clearer, but not to the point where we can adequately communicate information or orders."

"We also still can't rule out the possibility of a mole," Impa added, crossing her arms in muted frustration as she returned from the double doors of the suite and sat back down on one of the sofas beside her Highness. "Our forces may have come to this conclusion as well, and are using more encrypted – or, in some cases, even closed-loop – communications channels."

"Normally, I'd have a line open to the generalissimo to request more electronic resources," Zelda murmured, looking thoughtful and contemplative, "but responses from the generalissimo's office have repeatedly stated that he's either not in his office, or is engaged in critical operations management."

Impa's response to that was also the first conclusion that had come to Link's head. "The destruction of Anansi has changed the atmosphere and attitude here in Fort Garuda," the Hylian chief of staff muttered. "Gerudo may believe they no longer require the cooperation of the Hylians."

"I don't want to jump to that conclusion just yet," Zelda swiveled her head in Impa's direction, her voice diplomatic, soothing; she seemed so much different from the frustrated, irritated sovereign whom Link had first met when he was rotated to Zelda's interim bodyguard, or when the two of them had first arrived in Fort Garuda. "Gerudo cooperation with us is still invaluable. Even if it's for appearance's sake, I wish to maintain cordial relations with them. Undermining what resembles trust between us will only make things more complicated in the future."

Despite what seemed like a fairly benevolent statement from the princess, Link himself couldn't help but feel that he could detect a quiet undercurrent in the conversation, a quiet confirmation of the existence of plots within plots, wheels within wheels. As his eyes wandered across Zelda, Impa, and Leonore, he could feel the atmosphere of suspicion and secrecy, the three of them stuck in a game of cloak-and-dagger, where the other side held all the chips and the home field advantage.

Turning back to Link, Zelda smiled serenely, gently – and, for just a moment, Link found himself temporarily forgetting that he was in a war, that his sovereign was under pressure from all sides, that they were playing a game of subterfuge, seeing only his princess with that warm, genuine smile – spoke, "I appreciate you being here, Link, but considering you're on some very well-deserved leave right now, are you sure there are no other places you'd rather be right now?"

A fairly innocent remark with an unspoken suggestion that Link did not miss. Considering the likelihood of under-the-table politics and back-door deals going on, it was probably a good idea to give Gerudo intelligence as weak a grasp on the Hylian delegation as possible. It was time to implement strange moves, outlandish moves to confuse those that would watch them. Having irregular movements, erratic schedules, of her Highness' bodyguard would be a good start. Link nodded in a way that only intelligence agents could nod, subtly conveying that he understood _exactly_ what Zelda wanted him to do, before – after sensing what _seemed_ to be a barely perceptible nod from Leonore – rose from his seat and bowed his way out as well, swiftly making it out the door even as Zelda calmly watched his retreating back disappear behind double doors.

It was only seconds after Link had closed the doors behind him that Zelda broke eye contact from the doors, sighing as her gaze lazily swept across the floor in a melancholy manner, a hand coming up to support her chin even as she leaned against the sofa. It was clear that Link picked up on _certain_ subtexts, but there may have been more to be desired. "Do you think he fully realizes that I just want him to feel the gratitude he deserves?" she murmured, her free gloved hand extending a finger to absentmindedly trail the wooden frame of the sofa she sat upon.

Impa and Leonore exchanged quiet, understanding looks with each other before both of them – in their quiet, elderly wisdom that was still beyond Zelda's youth – decided to say absolutely nothing on the matter.

* * *

On the tenth night of the war, the moon hung serenely over the Aurora Ocean, casting a navy hue across the sky and reflections across slightly turbulent waters. The ambient light also served to highlight the silhouettes on the water, large, dark shapes that parted the water before them with sharp, metallic hulls.

Even by the standards of the legendary Hylian armada, the naval squadron was impressive, consisting of five ships instead of the usual four, comprised of two destroyers and three frigates, two in the latter category carrying one anti-submarine helicopter each. The five traveled in a wide formation, maintaining a distance of roughly half a kilometer away from each other, while moving in tandem westwards at a speed of about thirty knots, or fifty-six kilometers per hour. Hidden within the dark depths of the Aurora Ocean, silently cruising one hundred meters below the formation of five warships, were three Hylian fast-attack submarines taking up escort, invisible metallic hunter-killers that prowled below the water's surface.

The waves were mostly calm and gentle, with only the occasional splash against the hulls of the frigates and destroyers as the warships cleaved through the Aurora Ocean. With the moon out against the cloudless sky, it would've otherwise built up a rather romantic atmosphere, a false sense of tranquility.

The seamen aboard the five warships and three submarines, however, were feeling neither romantic nor tranquil. The sounds of the gentle crashing of waves were drowned out by klaxons that brought the naval squadron up to battle readiness. Flashing reds from warning lights illuminated the silhouettes of men running to and fro across the ships, readying for combat operations. The commanding officers of each respective Hylian vessel consulted their watches and – with discrepancies only by a minute – collectively logged the naval squadron as going into primary battle stations and full combat readiness at 2024 Eastern Seaboard Time.

There was nothing as dramatic as a sudden flash of light or even a beam across the port side of the ship. Rather, it happened instantly, almost soundlessly. An orange-hot gash suddenly appeared across the port hull of one of the frigates, turning hardened battleship armor into sizzling armor. Seamen who were unfortunately to be across that lined gash evaporated in an instant, with the red of the hull melting or crumbling away into the ocean later, almost like lava flowing from a volcano into the sea. The severity of the damage to the frigate was so great and so sudden that the ship was already listing to port before the captain could demand a status report. With almost every deck compromised on the port side and flooding occurring at an unsalvageable rate, the captain ordered non-essential personnel to abandon ship almost immediately at 2025.

Again, the phenomenon repeated itself, the sudden melting of a vessel's hull; this time, however, it happened to a destroyer, a small spot of its keel glowing orange along with several decks above it, practically a bull's-eye, striking at the destroyer's center of mass. Caught in this, however, was also the vessel's compliment of missiles, which were immediately ignited and detonated in their vertical launching system cells at the ship's fore. The massive chain reaction of secondary explosions resulting from the ignition of the missiles' warheads instantly disintegrated and tore apart what seemed like a quarter of the destroyer, a portion of its bridge destroyed and the rest of it charred and twisted to an unrecognizable wreck. With the destroyer sinking fast, the damage evident, and the inability to reach either the destroyer's bridge or combat information control, the remaining vessel designated the destroyer as sunk at 2026.

The remaining destroyer and two frigates activated their VLS cells, firing a massive salvo of vertical launch anti-submarine rockets into the air, each ASROC – which were actually missiles – jettisoning from the VLS cells in rapid succession as they streaked upwards for about thirty meters before leveling out, achieving a level flight path and flying westwards. From a distance, it was beautiful, a massive cluster of light-bursts flying in tandem towards the distance, almost like a massive shower of shooting stars. For those on the bridges and CICs of the Hylian vessels, however, they knew that the measure was merely an act of desperation, an attempt to distract. The truth was that while the Hylian naval squadron knew it was being attacked from the west, it had no better idea of where their enemy was.

In the two minutes it required for a VLS missile to achieve its maximum flight range and deliver its payload, the process repeated itself once more, this time to one of the Hylian submarines. One hundred meters underwater, the black hull of the submarine glowed an intense orange as metals boiled and melted, evaporating along with the water even as the decks were flooded and the pressure tanks damaged. Like a rock, the submarine sank, completely unable to regain buoyancy.

At 2028, all of the VL-ASROCs reached the end of their twenty-two kilometer flight ranges, and each of them proceeded to separate in midair, dropping an anti-submarine torpedo into the water. Splashes sporadically occurred across the waters to the west, each torpedo – without a pre-designated target – utilizing their own sonar systems to search out a target. Some of them, however, merely collided against other VL-ASROC torpedoes underwater, and the Hylian vessels that had launched them had absolutely no idea whether any of their ordinances found their targets. They could only hope that the mass explosions in the target's general area disorientated enemy sensors enough.

They were not. Sonar suddenly detected the presence of anti-ship torpedoes in the water, with four coming from the west at approximately nine kilometers out, traveling at an unbelievable speed of over one hundred and eighty kilometers per hour. More torpedoes, traveling at slower speeds but much more numerous, came from the north and south, and were expected to hit the squadron within four minutes. With little choice remaining in the matter, the commanding officer in the remaining Hylian destroyer ordered a retreat, but had barely finished relaying his orders when the VLS cells on board in ships melted in a split-second, then detonated in a tremendous fireball at 2029.

The Hylian naval squadron finally retreated to what they considered to be outside the area of engagement by 2043…although at the cost of another frigate and both submarines. At 2051, while at deescalated secondary battle stations, a blazing line across the starboard side of the final frigate's hull was formed as that part of the ship's armor flash-melted, allowing for the ocean to claim the vessel's interior before completely sinking at 2105.

* * *

Gerudo nights were different from Hylian nights. Traditionally, Gerudo had never been much of a "morning country", not when the night cool was a much-preferred alternative to the daytime heat, and the country woke late, slept late. It was, however, never entirely quiet; the mornings and afternoons of Garuda allowed for a coalition of neighboring farmers from small oasis farms to come in with the much needed crops needed to sustain the local population, but the evenings turned those same main streets of the city into a nighttime bazaar. Stalls with bright, colorful lights illuminated both sides of the desert streets, a corridor of merchandise lining the tan abodes on both sides of the street.

Navigating through the crowds of women and girls strolling through the cool nighttime desert air, shopping through the traditional marketplaces of Garuda, Link couldn't help but feel how different things were here compared to back home in Hyrule. Life went on here in Garuda. Even with a war being waged not-so-far-away, it didn't feel as if normalcy in the Gerudo capital had been changed at all. There was the gossip and the utter absence of men, but that was hardly anything special for the desert nation, the latter moreso than the first.

Then, again, Gerudo historically had it tough; even with modern technology at their disposal, surviving the desert was still no easy feat. Undoubtedly, traditions that gave them a sense of normalcy in the face of hardship had long since been carried over.

That didn't mean that he had room to be complacent, though; although Link was indeed interested in seeing more of Garuda, he also remembered that he was out here for the purposes of a political and intelligence ploy. Admittedly, it was kind of the high-level protocol that went onto the strategic scale as opposed to tactical – a bit beyond him at this point, but he was still learning the managerial processes of espionage – but it was clear that the Hylian command staff – or, really, Zelda, Impa, and Leonore – considered this to be important. For safety, however, Link still carried a side holster, fitted underneath his elbow and concealed under his jacket, upon where he had holstered his gunsword. He wasn't expecting danger, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Blue eyes behind tinted sunglasses gazed upon the cityscape in a melancholy manner. Day ten and counting. Despite himself, Link still wondered how well the Hylian forces were putting up a fight. Considering that Valentine forces had pretty much gotten as far as October City with the first week of the war, however, he knew things were not looking good, and Zelda, Impa, and Leonore were probably much more worried than they let on.

The agent's thoughts, however, were interrupted as he felt what seemed like a somewhat forceful press to his fore, and he instinctively stepped backwards, rightfully assuming that he seemed to have bumped into someone. The search for that specific "someone" ended up forcing Link to lower his gaze as he found himself looking at a girl who was a bit more than half a head shorter than she was, seemingly startled by the fact that they had bumped into each other as well. It would've been so easy to write off this young woman as harmless…had it not been for the _way_ in which she looked startled – as if she had suddenly realized something that wasn't supposed to have happened _did_ happen – and the fact that she was already slipping away into the crowd before Link could make any kind of apologetic gesture.

For her part, the girl didn't apologize either, just kept on moving swiftly through the sea of women. Link instinctively followed, looking for distinguishing traits of the girl who couldn't have been that much younger than Link himself, noting that she carried what seemed to be an oversized boomerang on her back. Immediately, he identified a wave of straight black hair that hung down to her shoulders, smooth and silky; it was a hair color that was not exactly uncommon in Gerudo, but far less prevalent than the browns, reds, and auburns of the nation's demographics. A quick review of Link's short-term memory allowed him to recall that the young girl seemed to have – when she bumped into the Joint Intelligence agent – green eyes.

Even as he maneuvered through the crowd, however, Link patted himself down, reaching into his pockets, and – after confirming that nothing had been filched off him – the Joint Intelligence agent finally stopped in his pursuit. The girl was probably just in a hurry and not a pickpocket; alternatively, she _was_ a pickpocket, but failed in making a victim out of Link. Either way, though, despite a nagging feeling that he might be missing something after all, or perhaps having been put at some invisible disadvantage, Link allowed for the young girl with the large boomerang on her back to disappear into the sea of faces and bodies.

Hopefully, for things as seemingly insignificant as these, it was fine to leave things be.

* * *

Budget concerns, even in the great capital of Gerudo, have never saw extensive renovations to the country's infrastructure beyond the essential matters of transportation, utilities, energy, and waste processing. As such, aside from Garuda's main streets, the city's alleys were dark, light coming only from the windows of occupied buildings, providing little respite against the blackness that settled on the desert night. For the most part, the civilians of Gerudo were used to the lack of light in the nighttime – crime tended to be low so long as political tensions weren't great – but they still would not deny of the hidden, dangerous activities that took place in such confines.

The small, lithe figure completed a leap down from the rooftop of a one-story adobe, pushing as much of her momentum forward as possible to diminish the impact before initiating into a roll. It was done with the proficiency of an individual familiar with at least the basics of swift athletic motions, the ability to navigate cityscapes and uneven terrain in the most efficient manner possible. Jumping back onto her feet, the figure jumped sideways into another alley, into the shadows, pressed herself against the wall; one of her hands reached for the large boomerang on her back as she ventured a long peek out. She had not been followed.

Relieved, the girl removed her hand from the boomerang, moving instead down the dark alleys of Garuda in what qualified for the city's suburbs. Every now and then, doors would open left and right, the stray individual walking down the street. She paid them no heed, and they dismissed her just as easily.

Finding her way to an adobe indistinguishable from any other to an untrained eye, the girl knocked on the door five times at a distinctive beat, waited three seconds, then gently unlocked and opened the door, letting herself into its dark confines, locking the door behind her. Although electricity was wired through the building, the only source of light came from a candle further into the small residence. It was a simple house for what would've otherwise been a simple Gerudo family, with two bedrooms and a connected combination of a dining room, living room, and kitchen that overlooked each other. A simple house…except the building had been – as far as she knew – unoccupied for months, with no one interested in buying the building.

Therefore, there was absolutely no problem in letting themselves in.

Stepping into the dining room where the candle illuminated the seated silhouette of a large, grown, well-built male figure, the girl lowered onto a knee, kneeling before the male even as he sat contemplatively at the dining table. Aside from the candle, a small assortment of weapons from blames to firearms could be found. Her head bowed, her green eyes fixated to the floor, the girl spoke in a quiet, respectful, young voice. "Master. I have what you asked for." And, in a single motion, she produced a camera from her pockets, holding it up for the man to retrieve.

A large hand reached out; its skin was somewhat brighter than the skin on his wrists as the arm was illuminated by the candlelight, indicating that he probably wore gloves often outdoors, yet there were a significant number of scars that look like battle wounds running up and down that limb. The hand gently picked up the camera, extracted its memory card, plugged it into a handheld computer he produced from his pockets. "You may retire for now," he said in a low, rumbling voice.

The girl bowed her head lower, acknowledging that order, uttered "master" once more before rising to her feet, returning to the bedroom she had temporarily converted to her quarters for as long as they were staying in Garuda.

The man uploaded the images from the memory card onto his handheld computer, quickly flipped through the images that had been taken with a digital camera. The face of the young, blond Hylian male meant virtually nothing to him, and that was what bothered the man. He had followed this line of work, and developed an ability – an instinct, almost – that allowed him to size up a target, and individual, with a fleeting glance, picking up good possibilities of the person's character, abilities, traits. Yet the young man here, wearing dark, tinted sunglasses in the middle of the night, was a factor not easily read.

_Not likely to be your average herder_, the man thought as he tapped the phone several times, preparing to initiate a call to a location nearly a thousand kilometers away in Southern Gerudo. It bothered him that such a short sentence was the only thing he could think about when looking at the images of this young, mysterious Hylian.

* * *

The war against Gerudo – and Hyrule, for that matter, but most especially Gerudo – had not been waged without inside coordination. Years before, an intense military intelligence effort was made to infiltrate Valentine spies into both nations, sleeper agents to probe the political realities of both nations and seek other forms of victory aside from a military one. The spies posed as Hylian civilians or individuals who had escaped from an oppressive Valentine regime, the latter of which became extremely useful in a counterintelligence effort depicting Valent as a disorganized, totalitarian country that was in danger of being toppled by its people when the nation was anything but.

Over time, however, the effort changed from seeking for a non-military victory to seeking forms of unconventional military assistance. In Hyrule, Allen-Rosencrantz Heavy Industries proved to be an invaluable economic and political asset. In Gerudo, however, the spies turned instead to Southern Gerudo, and found that the region was still extremely antagonistic towards the central government since its second defeat in the form of the Second Southern Gerudo Civil War half a century ago. Contacts were formed, attitudes assessed, promises made. Months before Valent initiated its attack on Gerudo, very select mercenaries, revolutionaries, terrorists, and all manners of individuals against Garuda leadership were made aware of a possible Valentine attack that was coming soon. In the week following the first strike, Southern Gerudo assets were fighting invisible battles that Valent could not deep behind enemy lines.

By the time Gerudo achieved military parity with Valent, stopped the continued Valentine offensive, Valentine military intelligence had already established a covert base of operations, a safehouse, in Southern Gerudo in the city of Dartemis, the largest city in all of Southern Gerudo's provinces and the most likely candidate to become its capital if Southern Gerudo ever attained its independence. Their presence was sanctioned – supported, even – by the local governments, and Valentine military intelligence was making full use of the resources given to them by coordinating local assets, directing mercenaries, revolutionaries, and terrorists into taking care of loose articles of business otherwise out of reach for even special forces.

The military intelligence safehouse in Dartemis was precisely where Juno now found herself. Located in a secure three-story building, the entire district was guarded by undercover secret police funded by the local government. The building itself was equipped with a full surveillance package, and it was both surrounded and inhabited by Valentine soldiers dressed as civilians but equipped with military hardware, hiding in the desert night and preparing to repel anyone who tried to intrude with lethal force. Juno had initially been worried that the safehouse would be guarded by special forces, thereby giving an unwanted advantage to Alexandria, but she got lucky this time; apparently, all special forces were too valuable to be spared anywhere but at the frontlines.

Juno herself sat at the table in what was a living room converted into the command center of this military intelligence operation. Maps, charts, and graphs were pinned or taped all across the walls, and the tables were a clutter of paperwork. Empty paper cups were stained with the residue of coffee, the small coffee maker in the corner of the kitchen having been overworked and pumping out brew after brew for this restless military intelligence team since they set up shop here. Computer consoles and electronic equipment were lined up against the walls, manned by technicians and officers trained to handle local assets and unconventional warfare.

_Trained professionals_, Juno told herself with quiet satisfaction. She looked forward to an evening of efficiency, as opposed to the night before.

"Major," one of the intelligence officers, a Captain Michelle, called out from in front of her computer screen. "We have an incoming transmission from one of our local assets in Garuda. Initiating live connection now."

Juno rose from where she sat at the table; her hand whimsically tossed an empty paper cup that had just been deprived of its coffee towards the wastebasket in the corner of the room, causing it to bounce against both walls of the corner before settling in the bin. Pulling up a seat beside the captain, she looked at the screen, noted that the communications interface showed that they were being connected with one "Stranger C.". A very obvious codename, if there were any, but Juno found herself feeling vaguely satisfied; a lack of willingness to immediately trust their new Valentine employers was a sign of caution, if not paranoia, which was often accompanied by the traits of competence and professionalism. This mercenary they were being put into contact with would hopefully be a seasoned veteran that wouldn't waste the major's time.

"Connected," Michelle announced into the microphone, returning Juno's attention to the conversation before her. "Verify yourself, Stranger C."

"Charlie-Echo-India-November," a low, male voice replied. Juno envisioned the man behind it to be middle-aged, well-built, tough.

Michelle checked the response code, saw that they matched. "Verified, Stranger C.," she confirmed before tossing an inquisitive look to Major Juno, who nodded, signifying her approval. "You are also on with Major Juno."

A pause, as if Stranger C. was contemplating that, before he simply continued as if Juno had not been introduced. "You will be receiving digital images momentarily of an individual fitting your profile parameters," he announced, followed almost immediately afterwards by a file transfer request.

Michelle accepted the file upload, isolated the files, ran checks on it to make sure they were safe, then opened them in a slideshow for Juno to see. "Does that look like your man?" she asked, watching as Juno squinted at the images, frowned at the picture of a blond Hylian wearing sunglasses in what looked like a marketplace in Garuda. Her voice sounded almost bored; the captain was low-ranked enough to follow orders without too many questions, but also too experienced to be surprised or impressed by much anymore…which included being ordered around by an intelligence officer half a decade younger than her.

"Surveillance video we had earlier was too fuzzy," Juno muttered, realizing that it was too difficult trying to match clear pictures of this young man to any surveillance images they had on their mysterious faux-special forces saboteur. "Inconclusive."

Again, Stranger C. spoke, perhaps to defend the quality of his contribution. "Intelligence via proxy has informed us that this man is the only significant Hylian male in Garuda at the moment, and supposedly acts as Princess Zelda's bodyguard. Information beyond that has been censored. Non-military palace staff knows nothing more than we do, and military palace staff knows better than to talk."

Remaining silent, Juno contemplated the deeper meanings of the information she now had. Her first line of reasoning after since she left October City was that the saboteur was most likely Hylian, given the lack of Gerudo males and thus the military's disinclination to put them in roles that would entail frontline combat, especially on a suicide mission to destroy an entire third of Valent's war strategy. Normally, Juno would've started looking in Hyrule, not Gerudo, but she had already learned previously – although, to her annoyance, not before Alexandria had already gotten the information she needed – that a Valentine infantry battalion had engaged an unidentified military motorcycle on the night following the destruction of Anansi, their pursuit interrupted only by an ambush at the Gerudo-Hylian border by Gerudo light armor. Although it was entirely possible that the Hylian saboteur only turned south to Gerudo because it was the closest safe haven to retreat to, Juno considered the resources required to locate and track Anansi for a saboteur to destroy it within such short notice, resources that Hyrule no longer had. That Anansi's destruction was the result of a joint Gerudo-Hylian operation was a much more likely explanation.

Which was the reason why she was even in Southern Gerudo in the first place: To mobilize local assets to conduct deep reconnaissance and surveillance where normal Valentine assets could not. If this was a joint Gerudo-Hylian operation, then it was most likely – given Hyrule's current disastrous military position – that it had been launched from Gerudo. This led to a reconnaissance effort that spanned every known military base in the country, Fort Garuda included. And now they had a possible lead in this young, sunglasses-wearing blond Hylian male.

"One moment, Stranger C.," Michelle said into the microphone before muting it and turning to Juno with a suggestion, surprising the major. "We can run a high priority request to the intelligence teams in Hyrule City, transfer the images there and have them try to match the photo to a career service vitae in the Haven. I believe our intelligence teams still have direct access to Hylian military personnel files. I will need your clearance code to put the query at the top of the queue, though."

Said intelligence teams were already extremely busy collecting as much data as possible from the ruins of Hyrule City, giving them the advantage where information was concerned, but that didn't stop urgent requests from being sent to acquire specific information about certain Hylian outfits, equipment, and operating procedures. Still, Juno doubted that would be enough in this case. "You're not going to find anything there," she muttered with a frown, but she still handed a military-issue plastic card imprinted with her clearance code to the operator anyways. "If I had to guess, this guy is likely Joint Intelligence. Does his Majesty still maintaining jurisdiction and quarantine of the Joint Intelligence headquarters?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Goddammit," Juno muttered. The one thing that puzzled her and just about every single Valentine military intelligence officer – as well as pretty much everyone who had clearance to even know about it – was his Majesty's direct orders that no one enter Joint Intelligence headquarters without permission from King Tacitus himself. Intelligence teams combed and data mined important installations such as the Hyrule Palace and the Haven, yet JI headquarters was completely off-limits, depriving Valent of so much information that they could've utilized to their advantage for intelligence and counterintelligence purposes. There was no explanation, no rationalization, and utterly no sense.

Just _why_ did King Tacitus quarantine Joint Intelligence Headqarters?

Still, Juno wasn't going to give up without even trying. "Put Stranger C. back on," she ordered while she fished out her own handheld computer from her pocket, began to compose a message to the National Defense Committee, to General Christian in particular. A major like her wasn't about to influence a decision made from the highest possible authority, but – with any luck – the National Defense Committee may have enough political clout to make his Majesty change his mind.

Michelle turned the microphone back on, turning the proverbial blind eye to Juno's activities – beyond her paygrade and her immediate interest – before addressing their local asset in Garuda again. "Is this the only individual within specified parameters, Stranger C.?" she asked. On her screen, the slideshow of images continued to play, one image flashing after another, revealing shots of the blond male Hylian from different angles and distances.

"As far as we know," the deep voice replied casually; he was professionally dispassionate.

"Very well. Continue to keep tabs on this individual, see what information you can gather from…"

"Wait." Michelle paused mid-sentence, turned around, found Juno suddenly looking intensely at the computer screen, one finger pointed at the still-moving slideshow. "Go back. Go back two images."

The captain did as she was told, clicking the back button on the slideshow twice, going back to another image of the male; this one looked as if it was shot from five meters away, capturing his head and upper body from his right. It was also from this angle that both Juno and Michelle noticed something particularly conspicuous to their trained eyes. "You can tell he's carrying a concealed weapon from this angle," Juno pointed to a spot under the male's jacket, right underneath his right arm. That was interesting; most holsters under the jacket were found on the left side, which meant that the wielder was actually _left_-handed, and required a custom-made holster. The intelligence major lamented that they didn't have any surveillance footage of Anansi's saboteur that would've otherwise gave solid evidence that he was left-handed.

Michelle gave an offhand glance at the subtle but distinct bulge under the young man's jacket. "The size of the bulge seems to indicate that it's a machine pistol," she said, having instantly understood Juno's line of thought. The captain quickly scrolled through the other images for a better view, maybe even a screen capture of the weapon itself; no such luck revealed itself, however. "Maybe even a small submachine gun."

Those were very good possibilities and very conventional answers…but there _was_ one answer – a more unlikely one, but one that could potentially answer all Juno's questions – the major was looking for in particular.

"New orders," Juno spoke into the microphone personally, pushing as much importance and authority in her tone as possible. "Stranger C., find out what weapon this man is carrying. Verify with images if possible."

There was a lengthy silence, a possible sign that Stranger C. was weighing the possible profits and risks by accepting this order. In the end, however, it took no more than ten seconds for him to give a reply before he disconnected the call: "Understood."

* * *

The receiver crackled before a female voice, having identified the origin of the call and thus the caller, crisply answered, "Ma'am. Sierra-Delta here, ma'am."

The gravelly voice, rendered harsh from a car bomb years ago, gave concise orders, her voice barely echoing due to the structure of her office in MICO headquarters, located within Fort Garuda. "Activate ECCM for ten minutes at 1455 hours two days from now."

"Yes, ma'am, activating ECM polarizer from 1455 hours to 1505 hours two days from now, ma'am."

Emi disconnected the call, noting quietly to herself that Sierra-Delta, a MICO field officer currently operating in the recently-retaken Zubara, was probably never going to get very far in the way of promotions, not while Emi was the director of MICO. Once upon a time, when she was just an Honorary Page to then-Lord Ganondorf, she had been majoring in criminology at the Garuda First University, and also took psychology courses with that; combine that with years experience in psychological warfare and office politics, and Emi was rather convinced that the more someone subconsciously added "sir" or "ma'am" into their sentences to a superior officer, the more of an ass-kisser they were. In Emi's opinion, ass-kissers tended to be petty when put into a position of power, and "petty" was not a qualification Emi was looking for when looking to promote officers to the higher echelons of MICO.

Leaning back in her seat, Emi sighed, her eye closing as she took a few seconds to rest. It was the beginning of the tenth day of the war, all ten days having been some of the most trying in her life. She honestly wasn't sure what to make of it. Forty years ago, she had been the honorary page to a young Ganondorf until her enlistment in the military the year after, a career choice that led her to the frontlines of the Bloody Friday riots in 1468. Twenty years ago, she was a military investigator until her formal transfer from the regular military to MICO the year after in 1488, where she had been handpicked by then-Chairwoman of Armed Defense Staff Gertrude as tactical commander of MICO counterinsurgent operations in South Gerudo. Now, she sat in the office of the director of the Military Intelligence Coordination Office, one of the most coveted seats in the Gerudo military. She was fifty-nine now; had she been asked forty years ago – even twenty years ago – she never would've guessed where she'd had ended up today. Not the honorary page who made sure Lord Ganondorf's schedule was clear and his documents ready, not the soldier who led her squad into gathering intelligence on suspected insurgents.

Strangely enough, despite four long decades of experience, sitting at a desk, planning, strategizing, fighting against bureaucratic bullshit…all of that became more tiring than even hiding in the desert for days without sleep, constantly bombarded by Southern Gerudo separatists, hoping that military airborne extraction teams can found and get them out of there before the enemy killed them or worse.

A soft, gentle knock characteristic of a certain agent in MICO resounded on Emi's door. She opened her eye, sat straight in her seat. Good; she had been expecting this appearance. A finger tapped a button on her desk, and the audible click of the door's internal lock disengaged, a cue for whoever was outside to enter. One of the double doors swung open silently, and Jessica let herself just as silently before closing the door behind her and saluting. Her expression was strangely unreadable this morning. That was good; although Emi disliked its necessity, she recognized it as an important skill to have if Jessica – or anyone, for that matter – wanted to advance their career here.

The major was to salute, but Emi waved a hand dismissively, gesturing her to come closer in the same motion. There were no chairs on the other side of Emi's desk, forcing all her visitors to stand; it kept all things prompt when people couldn't get comfortable in their seats. Jessica took only four steps to stand at attention in front of the desk. The director's office in MICO headquarters had never been large, and – personally – that was the way Emi liked it. It reminded her of Ganondorf's own study, not overly spacious like the throne room in Hyrule Palace. There was virtue to efficiency and its use of space.

"Major Jessica," Emi nodded, her hands settling on her desk, studying the young officer before her intensely with her single eye. "Have you committed your briefing packet to memory?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Jessica.

"Then you are aware that you are to contact absolutely no one but myself and the listed officers on your briefing packet regarding this matter?"

Emi detected the briefest of hesitations, brought about mostly by confusion, as well as a tiny bit of apprehension; Jessica honestly was not special operations material. "Yes, ma'am," she replied again.

"Do you have any questions?" A slight inflection of her voice indicated that it was not a rhetorical question.

Jessica managed to suppress a nervous, uncertain gesture that probably would've manifested as the biting or pressing of the lips. She could tell that Emi _was_ seriously making sure she had all her bases covered, but her question was less about the protocols of the operation as much as it was about the conception of the operation. "What were the criteria that resulted in my selection?" she asked.

"Classified." Emi's response was as concise as it was dismissive. "Do you have any other questions?"

The major was not quite able to stop herself from pressing her lips together this time. "No, ma'am."

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Emi nodded, grabbing a nearby pen and returning to the paperwork and reports she had been looking over prior to her call to Sierra-Delta. "Very well," she replied. "Be ready for deployment at any time. Dismissed."

And that would've been the end of that – _should've_, Jessica knew – had the major not had the urge, the need to ask one more question that was really pressing on just how much an intelligence officer should be questioning her orders or her operation, especially one that came down from the director herself. "Ma'am, requesting permission to speak freely." Her voice was almost a whisper.

"My hands are tied, Jessica," the director of MICO muttered with an explosive sigh, not looking up from her paperwork, but there was a gentler tone to her voice – something difficult for her to achieve without putting forth a good degree of effort – that indicated she was not truly annoyed at the major's attempt to ask a question Emi had already expected when Jessica received the briefing packets. In fact, she almost sounded sympathetic. "These were the terms of the Armed Defense Staff when I suggested this operation. If I hadn't agreed, they would've tried it themselves without MICO supervision, and you can imagine what kind of disaster that would be."

The mask Jessica had managed to build up was beginning to crack, her expression showing slight signs of inner conflict and anguish. Emi really questioned what Lord Jeremiah, the governor of the Gerudo province of Azuri, was thinking when he managed to get a Privileged Bestowment Executive Act from Generalissimo Ganondorf that allowed – _forced_, really – his second daughter to be here in Gerudo's most clandestine military organization, an organization Jessica clearly did not belong in by nature. "But the generalissimo…" she started.

"Oh, don't be dense." Now Emi was annoyed, her voice snappish, as she pushed her pen away on her desk, her brows tightening to a frown as she looked up at Jessica with a sufficiently irritated look, causing the young major to flinch and wither. "You should know better than this. The generalissimo must be completely insulated for obvious political reasons."

"Yes, ma'am," Jessica spoke in a barely audible whisper; she sounded like a cowed, timid, frightened, defeated schoolgirl. _She should_, Emi told herself, although not in any derogative mindset. _She's too young to be mixed in with this business_.

Again, Emi sighed. "I've done what I could," she muttered, her rough voice rendering most attempts at assessing falsehood difficult. "The rest is up to you now. Dismissed, Jessica."

The major nodded somberly once, then – catching herself – swiftly rectified this motion by saluting before quietly making her way out of Emi's office, disappearing behind the doors before closing it behind her once more.

* * *

**Exoria File #017  
Southern Gerudo**

The last century has seen Southern Gerudo as a source of international contention and national embarrassment. The issue originating as early as the late fourteenth century, Gerudo began to experience a cultural divide due to the swift industrialization of their neighbors. Foreign influence on the borders drove the "northerners" to adopt more modern and liberal policies and practices, such as human rights, gender equality, religious freedom, and technological innovation. Southern Gerudo, which encompasses just shy of a third of the nation to the south, remained protected from foreign influence and closed itself off to change. The reasons were social as well as political; the southerners felt that their traditions, customs, and way of life were being threatened by foreign powers corrupting their countrymen, and also believed that the central government in Garuda was garnering too much power, thereby reducing the influence of individual tribes that traditionally made up the Gerudo Union. The provincial governments in Southern Gerudo became increasingly militant, feeling that it was their duty to rectify the rest of the nation. In 1396 a.s.r., however, tensions finally broke out when a company of Southern Gerudo soldiers disappeared during a training exercise, only to reappear hours later, engaged in combat with a northern patrol. Conspiracy theorists have speculated that the company was, in fact, influenced by Hylian interests, but, at the time, Southern Gerudo decided that they could not abandon the company, and sent the rest of their armed forces to reinforce their positions, thereby starting the First Southern Gerudo Civil War. Due to premature hostilities and uncertainty on part of southern leadership, however, the civil war was swiftly brought to an end. In the following half a century, sentimentalities took a turn for the worse, and instead of hoping to preserve their culture and traditions across the nations, Southern Gerudo began to develop a zeal for independence, and conspired to establish a separate sovereign theocratic state from the Gerudo Union. Their opportunity came in 1456 a.s.r., immediately after the Second Continental War. Southern Gerudo had hoped that, following the war that resulted in a virtual loss for the Gerudo Union, northern armies would be too weak to oppose their secession from the union. However, the Second Southern Gerudo Civil War also ended swiftly in failure largely due to an insufficient number of fighting men, the underestimation of the fighting power of the northern forces, and international military assistance from Hyrule and Valent. Despite two consecutive defeats, disenchantment with the central government and the north still remains rife in Southern Gerudo; the central government in Garuda itself has taken a hands-off policy towards the region, allowing it a certain degree of autonomy to keep it satisfied, well-aware that most conventional military options are not effective. Due to this intentional neglect, many archaic practices, including slavery, blood feuds, and honor duels, are still an everyday part of life in Southern Gerudo.

* * *

Author's Note: In the tradition of the previous chapter, Chapter Sixteen continues the hectic switching of perspectives and times, encompassing a lot of different snapshots at different moments. Some of them are minor, others are vague, even more are suggestive, few are inconsequential. I'm not going to spend too much time trying to pull you through a nasty bit of politicking, and this is really mostly only going to last through the Jormungand arc. Hopefully, though, what I've been doing in Chapters Fifteen, Sixteen, and (hopefully) Seventeen will answer old questions and pose new ones. Well, mostly pose new ones.

_Jokeruto: Holy crap, I came into this fic with little to no expectations, considering so many attempts at "modernizing" the Zeldaverse usually end in failure. However you have completely blown my mind, I didn't think it was possible. You've written a great balance of humor and gritty realism, what I find interesting is they have what seems like fully sentient AI along with walking tanks but Nuclear power is still only in the theoretical stage?_

_That must've been one weird as hell development path their world took compared to ours. Another thing I'm curious about is what races actually managed to survive other than the obvious human/hylian(are they even considered seperate) and Gerudo?_

The world of _Exoria_ developed technology on a path that was very different from us. Certain rules are, of course, obeyed – you can't have the car without inventing the wheel – but, otherwise, I don't consider it unbelievable that they have main battle tanks (the M1 Abrams main battle tank entered service in 1980) while nuclear physics is still in its theoretical stages (as it was in the real world during the 1930's); the margin of error here is only half a century, which is unbelievably miniscule for twentieth-century technology. Remember that Hyrule had magic in the past, so certain technologies were either dependent on or made obsolete, and only now being "rediscovered".

I won't say what races have survived _yet_, but I guarantee that one race aside from the humans (and, yes, I consider Hylians and Gerudos to be ethnic groups, not two different races) will be having a _very_ important role in the Jormungand arc.

Anon: _This is an extremely well-written, well-thought out fic, and if you continue to write chapters of this quality I've no problem waiting for them (congratulations on your graduation, by the way). _

_I may be a bit optimistic, however, considering I only began reading this a few days ago..._

_Anyways, your vision of Hyrule is really interesting. I think the political parts of the fic are the most interesting, simply because I like witnessing the inside view of how the leaders of the country get together to set things in motion, but your action scenes are also lots of fun. I like how you're following the traditional Zelda game formula, giving it a familiar feel, while at the same time bringing us into this almost alien version of Hyrule. I think the fact that the reader knows that a huge plot twist will be coming sooner or later actually adds to the suspenseful feel of the story, too. Normally, if I hear plot twist in Zelda my mind automatically screams GANONDORF IT'S GOTTA BE GANONDORF but I actually kind of like your characterization of Ganondorf and I'm (for once) having doubts. At the same time, though, Ganondorf is still suspicious: he and Emi are having some kind of secret correspondence, he doesn't really want Hylian involvement, and with Link going on missions to enemy territory Zelda is left alone in Gerudo but for only two other people she can without a doubt trust (well, if we take Zelda's animosity into account it might actually just be one and a half). There's a possibility that once Link takes down Quetzcoatl, thereby probably destroying Valentine moral and leaving himself deep in Valent (assuming that's where Quetzlcoatl is) Ganondorf could use the Gerudo army to crush the remaining Valentine forces and, with Zelda in his posession, render any Hylian counterattack useless and make Gerudo the sole power or something. This is all speculation, of course. Ganondorf may be just an ally. But knowing that he's the big bad in most of the Zelda games and therefore knowing what he's capable of keeps us guessing. It's fun. I'm looking forwards to the big reveal._

_I think the behavior of Alexandria and Juno is a bit counterproductive, isn't it? Wouldn't it be so much easier to just pool their resources together? By treating it like a competition, it feels a little like they aren't taking it seriously, and they're cutting down on efficiency. I wonder how this rivalry started... At least thanks to them Link will find it much harder to maneuver behind enemy lines. Since he doesn't know this, it's probably gonna bite him in the ass later._

_Do other races, like the Goron or the Zora, appear later in this fic? The Zora would be helpful against this next 'boss,' I'd wager, but I don't know if you'd incorporate them somehow. I feel a bit like all the players so far are human like and are easier to picture in modern war. The others are hard to envision wielding machinery, for me, because they seem so much closer to nature. That's probably just my personal bias, though._

_Okay, I'm going to try and wrap this up...Anyways. Romance. You said that you might add some as a backdrop to the main storyline, and to be honest I totally approve of that (and not just because I'm a closet romantic... .). I think it would add spice, so to speak. Plus, with that kind of thing just comes all sorts of complications and it's really just a lot of fun to play with. For example, the kind of aloof Link having to deal with feelings like that would be interesting. If there's no time for it in your narrative, however, I've no qualms with killing the idea and just continuing as you are. You're doing amazing as is._

_(Sorry about the rambling, long windedness of my review, by the way)_

First off, don't worry; I love long, substantial reviews, and yours is no exception. I can only hope I can give an equally substantial – if not long – reply.

In regards to the politics of _Exoria_, I follow the core philosophy of one Winston Churchill (despite not liking the man too much myself): There are no permanent allies, only permanent interests. A lot of these people are only really dealing with each other out of necessity rather than out of any real sense of camaraderie, although I won't say _who_ this applies to (although I _will_ say that I'm including a lot of the "NPCs" and side characters into this category here). Whether or not Ganondorf is going to be the nefarious final villain is something I won't comment on; it's delicious to keep you all guessing. I will say that he and Emi, however, are not slouch against Zelda, Impa, and Leonore.

The 1st Special Investigative Unit was meant to portray Valentine politics at their worst in military intelligence while showing a more humane side. Alexandria is, undoubtedly, a cynical lone wolf who openly admits she works better alone, but she also shows respect for her fellow servicemen, in contrast to Juno, who is very careerist and is willing throttle her way to the top. They are trying to be productive, but their past experiences also make it so they're not willing to work with each other; Alexandria knows that Juno is willing to stoop down to certain lows that she's not comfortable with, and Juno knows Alexandria is competent enough to start hogging the credit. They _are_ taking this seriously, however…perhaps _too_ seriously. Poor Steven's completely out of his league here.

As I mentioned before, one of the other races will be making a very dominant appearance in this Jormungand arc. And I have no further comment yet on the romance aspect.

Buta: _Well, this fic has certainly been interesting. It's definitely closer to canon - and better written, for that matter, despite a few stylistic and grammatical errors - than most fics I've seen, especially in this fandom. The nods to the games are always fun, and it's good that this story is a proper adventure instead of some half-baked shipfic._

_Just a few things related to this chapter. Durandara says "Oh, god" in one part of the chapter, which is a bit inconsistent with Zelda's earlier reference to the Goddesses, although this is relatively minor. I noticed the reference to AI rampancy, and the entire battle using the hookshot-equivalent instantly made me think of Shadow of the Colossus (which is mentioned later in the author's notes.)_

_Honestly, when Anansi was destroyed, I expected its power source to be one of the old magical artifacts from canon, which would float down into Link's hands after its defeat. I was also hoping for a "Hey! Listen!" from Durandara at least once, actually. I wonder if I missed it, or if it's in the next chapters._

_I wonder if a few characters will come into play eventually, such as Vaati, Zant, or Shadow Link. Or reincarnations of those characters. Vaati would certainly be interesting to see... especially considering that Valent's military strength is primarily concentrated in its air force._

_[…]_

_Oh, I'm at the end of what's been posted already? That's always the part I hate the most about reading unfinished stories. Hopefully, I'll have remembered to check in by the time of the next update._

_It's interesting that Hyrule's navy was initially composed of privateers. Is this related to Tetra's pirates from The Wind Waker-era canon, despite the fact that you apparently haven't played those games? Also, is the extinction of the Gorons related to the war for the Death Mountains, perhaps? I think that's particularly likely. Another thing I just remembered is that Hylian does not seem to be interchangeable with Hyrulean, indicating a particular race. At least, that's as far as I know._

_There is one more thing. I presume Jormungand is going to take the form of a mechanical water snake, seeing as the mythological figure is a serpent. On the other hand, since the names seem to be indicative of shapes, that would make Quetzalcoatl another snake-based weapon. Still, being modeled after a feathered snake would probably be different enough anyway._

_Now to sit around and wait for the next chapter. It really is the worst part of reading any fic that isn't an utterly ridiculous mess._

Durandara mentioning "god" while Zelda mentioning "goddess" is really my mistake – aggravated by the fact that I haven't actually put down in stone how I'm going to deal with modern religion in Hyrule – but it's really more of an euphemism. Zelda was referring to the powers that be, while Durandara was just using the word "god" as an interjection. Really my mistake, though, although I don't know if I want to correct that. But no, there's no magic artifact that accompanies the destruction of the superweapons…or so you think. I'll be terribly vague about that as well.

I'm also very aversive to the idea of old characters reappearing here, as I consider it to be remarkably cheesy, but we'll see what happens. The old Hylian navy being made up of privateers _was_ a nod to _Wind Waker_, but it was _also_ a nod to the old English navy, which was very much reliant on privateers to do its work against mainland Europe. Whether the gorons are still around – and, if not, what happened to them – will eventually be explained; same goes for the zorans. Also, given that I don't consider the Hylians to be a separate _race_ as much as they are an ethnic group, I chose Hylian and stuck with it.

I already have basic designs for each of the Hylian superweapons, but we'll get there when they finally show up. Either way, though, I'm glad that you're looking forward to what I can offer with _Exoria_, and that it isn't an "utterly ridiculous mess".


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

It didn't bother Director Leonore that she had only rose from bed half an hour ago at an hour past noon, with the day's lunch a thing of the past. Striding from her own diplomatic suite to that of the Hylian princess', she reminded herself that days had seen highly irregular sleep schedules, with extended periods of work and rest transcending any form of regularity or pattern. Hours were spent on sofas, gathered around documents scattered across the tea table in Zelda's suite. Without windows and only a grandfather clock to keep the time, days and nights blurred and merged. Unsurprisingly, Doctor Taylor expressed disapproval.

But it didn't bother Leonore too much. Frankly, she was rather surprised that all of them were aging well. All of them occupied some of the most stressful, intensive, demanding occupations the Hylian government could offer, and days like these had been common in the past…although, obviously, the situations were neither as critical nor as threatening. She turned right at a T-junction, nodded politely back to a two-woman patrol that made rounds across this wing of Fort Garuda, moved down to Zelda's door, although not without first throwing a look back at the passing patrol, ensuring that they had turned the corner and disappeared down another hallway. Suspecting that they were up to no good would be giving the Fort Garuda patrols too much credit, in Leonore's opinion, but some old habits were hard to break, especially when one was Director of Joint Intelligence.

A triple-knock on suite's double doors was greeted by the very muffled "come in" from beyond; the Hylians had already learned that sound insulation in the rooms were excellent, and the voice within – Impa's voice – sounded virtually like it was being hollered from within the room. That the Hylian chief of staff didn't open the doors herself – and that the doors were unlocked – indicated that she was already being expected…or, more likely, that they were waiting for Leonore specifically. The DJI steeled herself mentally before she twisted the knob on the door, let herself in; there was probably something important in the air.

"Your Highness," Leonore greeted politely with a bow, closing the door behind her, this series of actions having become practically routine for the past few days. The suite was roughly as Leonore had left it last night: Occupied by Zelda and Impa, and cluttered with paperwork. Leonore herself had gone to sleep last night after Impa spent the afternoon taking a quick nap, so it was not unlikely that the princess' chief of staff had spent the entire night and subsequent morning working. That said, Leonore also wondered if Zelda had slept at all, considering that the princess had been awake the previous evening as well, working alongside Leonore practically all day yesterday. Impa had resorted to periodically shooing Zelda to bed like an overbearing mother, and while Zelda looked fresh and awake now, the DJI was somehow uncertain that the princess had actually gotten any rest…if only indicated by the somewhat irritated and definitely worried expression on Impa's face. No one seemed to be resting properly now.

Zelda nodded back politely in response to Leonore's greeting, and, as soon as the DJI sat down, produced an official-looking document – it had been isolated on an otherwise bare side table with a lamp, Leonore noticed – stamped with the seal of the office of the generalissimo. "Please take a look at this," the princess spoke, handing the paper over to the older woman.

Taking the document with one hand and donning her reading glasses with another, Leonore swiftly skimmed through the contents once, taking a second, more careful read seconds after as her eyes narrowed in intense thought. "Interesting proposition," she finally allowed as she placed the sheet of paper on the tea table, pulling off her reading glasses afterwards. "Not at all unprecedented, either; these exchanges are supposed to help morale on both sides. We pulled this off with Gerudo a few times during the Second Southern Gerudo Civil War. The public – civilian or military – needs its heroes and poster boys." She looked ironically thoughtful. "I suspect Link being male would help with this."

"It's highly unusual to me," Impa frowned, leaning back against her sofa. "I was under the impression that the Anansi mission was classified."

"It was," Leonore replied with a quick nod. "The rumor mill will do its work here, though. At this point, it's not a stretch to assume that military personnel here in Fort Garuda suspects Link works for Joint Intelligence. Anansi was confirmed to have been destroyed recently. Any Gerudo soldier would venture a good guess when they see their generalissimo inspecting the troops alongside a known – or at least suspected – Joint Intelligence agent. The unspoken message, amplified by the grape vine amongst the enlisted, will probably be stronger than any official statement." _Everyone likes making their own assumptions_, Leonore didn't say, but she figured that this message, too, was understood – and better left – unspoken.

Impa wasn't entirely pleased about the implications, however. "That could possibly compromise Agent Link's anonymity as a field agent, though," she mused, the frown on her face displaying her evident suspicions on the matter.

Gingerly picking up a teacup from the corner of the tea table – and noting that its contents had long since cooled – Zelda murmured quietly, almost offhandedly, before drinking her tea, "That possibility had come to pass long ago, Impa." And that statement alone somehow irked Leonore, rubbed her off on the wrong way. There were plenty of explanations for the emotions that she was holding back, the most obvious being that Link was _her_ agent, but part of it had to do with what Leonore felt was Zelda treating Link as merely a strategic consideration. It wasn't true, of course, given the princess' constant concern over Link's well-being, but it still caused the director to shift uncomfortably in her seat, sit up straighter.

She didn't like it when certain things were taken for granted.

Thankfully, Impa was at hand to ensure that the discussion stayed on topic. "The question here is how we're going to respond with this request," she reminded her sovereign and her colleague.

Placing her teacup back on the table before her, Zelda furrowed her brow just a tiny bit to indicate a miniature attempt at brainstorming. "It _would_ make later dialogue with the generalissimo easier, but…" her voice trailed off, apparently coming to no adequate conclusion, then turned to the DJI for input. "Leonore, what do you think?"

Pressing her lips together in deep concentration, Leonore deliberated her thoughts before carefully replying, "I can't foresee any major problems with the request, your Highness. I do, however, have my worries." Her eyes glinted with what was best described as a flinty trace of paranoid suspicion. "Something about the past two days reeks of Emi."

"MICO communication traffic _has_ been unusually high lately." Impa and Leonore quickly swiveled their heads in the direction of this unfamiliar voice, but visibly relaxed as they found t themselves looking at the holographic form of Durandara, her body of light materializing as a figurine sitting atop the lamp making up one of the corners of the formation of sofas around the tea table, swinging her legs back and forth alternately. "Nothing compared to the opening shots of the war, of course, but I can surmise that, based on MICO COM traffic history, it has hit a bit of a spike." Her own look turned to that of slight annoyance, almost as if she was pouting. "They are, of course, heavily encrypted, and her Highness has refused to let me do anything that carries the risk of being flagged."

What could be interpreted as Durandara's being peeved by Zelda's perceived lack of faith in the AI's ability to remain undetected – or the deprivation of what would otherwise be a worthy challenge – was not lost upon Hyrule's sovereign. "We don't need to aggravate our allies or make them wary of our intentions, Durandara," Zelda sounded like a mother placating an impatient daughter.

In response, Durandara sounded like an impatient older sister explaining something she perceived as overly simple to a younger sibling. "They _are_ wary of our intentions, your Highness," she shot back; the "your Highness" she added at the end of the statement sounded tacked on, without the proper reverence usually accompanying such a title. "_We're_ wary of _theirs_. You know that."

Properly gauging that her sovereign was becoming increasingly impatient with the AI's impudence, Impa quickly cut in with a question for Durandara. "Encryption prevents you from monitoring their traffic, but you can tell how much is being communicated?"

Durandara made a face that was difficult to interpret on a holographic face; it could've easily been either impatience at describing something so simple, or satisfaction towards a discussion in which she can provide answers and show off. "Data packets are what're encrypted if they're sent across multiple databases," she elaborated. "It's like watching a highway full of cars with tinted windows; you can't tell what's inside the vehicle, but you can tell there are a lot of them. The 'highways' themselves, so to speak, are rarely masked."

"What do you read of the situation, Durandara?" Zelda quickly wedged her way back into the conversation with a question of her own.

The AI looked almost as if she had been surprised that her opinion would be sought, but she hid it well. "I have certain reservations about the request, your Highness," she admitted with uncharacteristic uncertainty. "This does not match certain patterns; I suspect problems, but I cannot quite foresee them just yet with insufficient data."

The smile and voice of Zelda indicated at amusement; she sounded almost teasing. "Gut feelings from an AI?" the princess quipped.

"AIs do not have gut feelings, your Highness," Durandara replied in what was clearly an irritated, deadpan voice, amplified by the crossing of her arms and the narrowing of her holographic eyes. "I _can_, however, speculate. Considering that Generalissimo Ganondorf knows Link is your current only native security detail, I'm surprised he even made this request at all. It's rather bold of him…if not a bit crass."

"That brings me to another point I wanted to bring up," Impa huffed, her tone critical. "Is it a good idea to deprive ourselves of our only trusted source of security?"

Zelda threw Impa an unreadable glance, full of subtle undertones. "You're insinuating that you do not trust the Gerudo security detail that has been tasked to us," the princess said carefully; those who did not know her Highness well could've almost assumed that she was being testy towards her own chief of staff.

Although she knew Zelda wasn't upset at her, Impa still knew that a certain degree of objectivity was probably desirable in a situation like this. "I'm suspicious about Major Jessica's reassignment, your Highness," she ventured slowly, but no less intensely. After a moment, she added, almost conspiratorially, "Among other things."

"You realize that a single Joint Intelligence agent is severely insufficient in protecting her Highness if Fort Garuda really attempts anything on us," Leonore spoke in a neutral but somewhat testing tone.

"We still hold certain cards that Garuda needs," said Zelda plainly; there were traces of deliberate control in her voice, subtle signs that were not lost upon the other three females in the room. "They won't try anything overt or drastic, not yet."

"But the possibility of it later down the line is not out of the question, then?" Durandara cut in, clearly attempting to undermine Zelda's argument. In what was probably a delayed afterthought, she quickly added after a few seconds, "Your Highness?"

Exasperation was not difficult to miss from Zelda's demeanor as she sighed, gave a frustrated look at Durandara. "I am trying to point out that Link's presence here for security is a formal gesture, a symbolic positioning," she said slowly, each word devoid of emphasis, "not a strategic consideration."

Detecting a need to put their discussion back on its rails – on a more productive and less argumentative set of rails, for that matter – Impa made a loud business out of clearing her throat, quickly stated, "We're going off-topic. The discussion at hand is whether or not we should send Link."

"I think her Highness brings up a good point," Leonore finally conceded coolly, closing her eyes as she crossed her legs and her arms, pushing herself back against her seat. "Having Agent Link with us as her Highness' personal bodyguard is a symbolic gesture, not a strategic one." When she re-opened her eyes, they looked in an almost conspiring manner towards Princess Zelda. "But, aside from the obvious diplomatic overtones associated with sending Link on the generalissimo's troop review, there's also something symbolic about not being reliant on Agent Link for personal security."

Zelda caught on quickly, indicated by the narrowing of her own eyes in what was possibly dark understanding. "An indication of our trust to our Gerudo hosts," she murmured; subconsciously, she sat up straighter in response.

Leonore nodded. "Theatrics and the air of bravura should not be lost on your Highness," she remarked wryly; although it didn't happen, one could've easily imagined that statement to have been accompanied by a snap of her nimble fingers. "There are certainly certain images we can cultivate and emphasize in the generalissimo's absence. If anything else, we can irritate the hell out of Emi by making her think we're onto something."

Looking away in what was almost a gesture of discomfort and disquiet, Zelda felt uncertain that this was a line of thought she wanted to look down at that precise moment. The benefits of Leonore's insinuations went without saying – Zelda herself could've thought that up herself without the DJI's input – but it also served to instill certain unpleasant undertones regarding strategic considerations into her mind. "Perhaps we should ask Link about his opinion?" she suggested.

"You may, of course, your Highness," Leonore replied; there was a deliberate lightness in her tone, the hiding of what was secretly a sense of subtly smug satisfaction. The way she spoke was reminiscent of a teacher patiently explaining something to a student as opposed to a civil servant explaining something to her liege. "Speaking as his superior, however, I would venture a guess that he would simply defer to our decision on this matter."

"And our suspicions about MICO?" Impa asked, apparently insisting on that point, not immediately ready in letting go of a nagging suspicion of hers.

"Are our reservations based on anything beyond a hunch at the moment?" questioned the princess, almost in a schoolteacher-like manner.

Impa and Leonore exchanged looks in an extended moment of silence.

Zelda decided to take that as a "no". "Policy cannot be conducted on the basis of hunches and innuendo," she said simply.

Frustration – and not just a little bit of fatigue – was becoming increasingly evident upon the aging lines across Impa's face. "Your Highness, I think we can all agree that MICO is up to _something_."

Settling her back against the sofa, Zelda closed her eyes, spoke with a tone of finality in her voice that Impa, having nursed the crown princess since she was a child, could not have missed, "I do not subscribe to the theory that one should default to inaction in the face of uncertainty."

Grimacing, Impa looked aside to Leonore, whose unreadable expression revealed as much as it didn't: It was best to leave things be at this point. Reluctant but clearly recognizing that she wasn't going to change her liege's opinion anytime soon without concrete evidence, Impa merely sighed before nodding, "Very well, your Highness."

A small nod graced Zelda's head even as she looked sideways towards Leonore, who shrugged to indicate she had nothing more to add to this conversation. The princess decided to take Durandara's lack of remarks as a lack of protest as well; Zelda was fairly certain that if the artificial intelligence had anything to say, she would've done it already, with or without permission. "Please contact Agent Link at his earliest convenience."

* * *

For strange diplomatic purposes that Link wasn't sure he'd understand without a layman's explanation, his departure from Fort Garuda to Gran Military Base was without fanfare, and the only person who took him to the helipad was Leonore, if one did not count the two-woman escort that had been provided to them to ensure they would not get lost along the way. For the agent, that was actually preferable – to him, there was something unsettling about being escorted to a helipad for an otherwise normal troop review by the sovereign of his country, unless that also included the fact that he was going as a guest of honor by the sovereign of his host country – but considering the possible attempts at diplomatic overtures Zelda had been attempting to extend towards Ganondorf, he was just slightly surprised she wasn't here in person.

It was just after noon and the accompanying lunch that the quartet of individuals finally walked out into the sunlight beyond the fortress walls, onto the northern helipad holding a helicopter that would take them to Samani Airbase – Link noted that it was the exact same airbase he had been taken to six days ago so he could be airdropped to the Hylian-Gerudo border on his mission to sabotage Anansi – before they would be flown into Gran Military Base by a fixed-wing military transport plane. Two and a half hours to Gran, an hour – maybe two – once there, another two and a half hours back to Garuda. _Home in time for supper_, Link thought.

As it _was_ a formal troop review, and Link would be right beside the generalissimo as this happened, Leonore had gone to some pains to ensure that her own agent looked presentable, and most certainly Hylian. It meant that he was fully clothed in his usual Joint Intelligence attire, a black-upon-black suit signature to the organization. It indeed gave him a more impressive look than the casual wear – or the Valentine special forces fatigues – he had been wearing as of late, but wearing dark, full-bodied clothes out in the desert day also meant it was _hot_. Link understood the power of a message, but lamented how they often got into the way of practicality, especially for those who suffered the consequences.

"Just over here, please," the lead escort told Link and Leonore. The former spied the latter suppressing a snort; it was difficult to be led anywhere else when they were on a one-way path that led only to the helipad. "The generalissimo is already expecting you." The escorts began to slow her pace, allowing for the Hylians to make the rest of their way. _Good move_, Leonore admitted. _They know we'd require a last minute private exchange of words, and that time would be saved if a bit of discretion was given on this little landing_.

That said, though, Leonore found some amusement in the words that were passing in her head. There would be little words "exchanged"; it would be a strictly one-way affair.

"Her Highness doesn't want to say it," Leonore finally spoke in a whisper, slowing her pace just slightly to buy a scant few seconds before they reached the helipad proper, "but I'd still suggest you keep your eyes open for this little trip."

Link remained silent and stoic, but tilted his head just enough to tell his director that he was feeling inquisitive about that statement. The agent had actually been observing the helicopter meters ahead, noting that it was a military model repurposed for something akin to civilian transport, and comfort was obviously the intent here; it lacked a rear hatch, having a side door instead, and looked lightly armored. Undoubtedly, the interior would be fairly comfortable as far as military helicopters go, and its speed sufficient for quick getaways, an aerial transport suitable for Gerudo's sovereign indeed.

"It's not substantial," shrugged the director even as she provided polite nods to the soldiers who saluted as they approached before motioning Link towards the open side door of a helicopter, "but we have certain suspicions here and there that may or may not need confirming. Keep an eye out for little clues and signs here and there. It may give us a bearing on the generalissimo's intents for the time being."

Personality and training kept him from frowning and sighing, something that his superior beside him definitely would've disapproved of. Joint Intelligence agents were not known for a sense of naivety, and Link knew he was hardened enough to understand the political realities of his trade and his country, but there were times – like now – if he wondered the prerequisite of intelligence agency directors was obsessive paranoia. He respected Leonore greatly, and that wasn't going to change, but that still didn't stop him from thinking she overdid things sometimes.

"Stay sharp," Leonore merely muttered, just before she slowly fell back to allow Link to board the generalissimo's helicopter. "Some of us are not inclined to believe Ganondorf chose to have you accompany him on this review without reason or motive. _Especially_ you."

A quiet nod was all Link offered in turn as he moved into the helicopter. Further details were welcome, but ultimately irrelevant; he would perform his duty.

The interior was not as luxurious as Link would've otherwise suspected even as he stepped in and was greeted by a smartly-dressed lieutenant, who gave a bow instead of saluting; he suspected that she was meant to be more of a flight attendant than she was an officer on this helicopter. He had seen the interior of Hyrule's royal transport helicopter before, knew it was generally outfitted with as much flair and comfort – complete with padded seats and roll-out beds – as the passenger plane exclusive to the royal family. The interior of the generalissimo's helicopter had no such commodities, and although it was still decorated enough to be presentable to foreign guests and dignitaries, it looked much more like the economy class section of a normal commercial airliner than something used for transporting the nation's sovereign.

Indeed, Ganondorf was already seated with the helicopter, a collection of paperwork scattered across a fold-out table before him even as he concentrated on the documents. Not so busy was he, however, to not notice Link as he stepped in, and he stood from his seat respectfully, a gesture that somehow made the Hylian agent nervous as he felt the weight of diplomatic protocol. "I must express my gratitude to you once more for accompanying us on this review," his voice rumbled even as the two exchanged handshakes at Ganondorf's initiative before he gestured towards the seat right across from his own. "Please, have a seat."

Link obeyed and took his seat, just as he noticed the Gerudo lieutenant had closed and locked the side door behind him, confirming his suspicion that he had been the last one everyone was waiting for. The whine of the helicopter's engines was greatly suppressed even as it powered up and allowed for the transport to take off with a bit more finesse than Link would've otherwise suspected from Gerudo's airwomen. Looking out the window on both sides, he noted two attack helicopters quickly pull up and flank both sides of their transport, acting as escorts.

Sighing, the agent leaned back against his seat, looking idly out the window, trying to ease his nerves while seated a table away from the generalissimo himself. In his mind, he logically knew that this was just a troop review, with his presence merely a signification of the alliance between Hyrule and Gerudo, a morale-raiser for those who suspected Link's involvement in the Anansi operation.

Instinctively, however, he just couldn't _quite_ shake the feeling that this was a sign of more things to come.

* * *

Although she had not actively seen Link – having consigned him to what was effectively unpaid leave from his duties as her personal bodyguard – over the last few days, Zelda couldn't help but feel that something was _missing_. It was, of course, but she had never expected the impact to be so significant for an agent who had spent most of his waking hours in Fort Garuda away from the princess' suite. She supposed it was just the realization that Link had always been on call before to respond to whatever was necessary, and yet now he was on his way to Gran Military Base, and wouldn't be returning until late in the afternoon.

_Late in the afternoon_, Zelda told herself even as she sighed, absentmindedly working the buttons on the communications suite before her as per usual. It had become a habit now, trying to look for signs of Hylian communiqués anywhere. It seemed as if all the Hylian channels were blocked, and all the others were masked by ECM. There were times where she'd make out a few words through all the static, but there was no real way she could actually figure out if they were Hylian or Gerudo or Valentine troops. Beyond anything else, Zelda wanted _action_. She wanted to go north, find out the state of her military, lead her country. But she knew that was impossible, what with them having no idea where the bulk of Hylian military forces were now and no safe way to move up north; requesting a Gerudo army group to escort them aimlessly through Hyrule was certainly out of the question.

So, for now, they would have to wait, a view that both Impa and Leonore seemed to wholeheartedly support. Wait until a better opportunity, wait until they had information to act on.

Zelda sighed again, trying her best to suppress a scowl as she allowed sheets of the latest reports – compiled for her by a combination of Impa, Leonore, and MICO – to slip from her hand and onto the desk where the communications suite was situated, still receiving nothing but the usual static. _Wait_. She had been waiting for ten days now, ever since she arrived in Garuda.

An eye spied the clock in her room; it was just a minute before three in the afternoon. It was funny how the days and hours seemed to meld together now with her irregular sleeping schedule; she couldn't even remember when she woke up today…or if she had even woke today. Perhaps it was yesterday. Everything moved so fast, exhausted her. _No wonder father aged so fast when he ascended the throne_, Zelda thought…and instantly regretted it. Her mind, against her will, drifted towards the thoughts of her father, his Majesty King Robin II, the nation's sovereign who had been missing ever since the war first began. They had not talked for nearly two years – understandable when one was in a coma – she had given up all hope of her father ever coming to again, and she had thought she had buried all her feelings regarding this…but, right at that moment, Zelda felt incredibly homesick. Helpless.

She realized that she wanted to cry, but – despite having done so only ten days ago – was no longer she knew how. The queenly mask had stayed on for too long, and masks did not shed tears.

That dismal, melancholy mood was so prevalent that Zelda didn't hear the _first_ crackle on her communications suite.

The second and third crackles went unnoticed as well, the slivers of a garbled voice distorted by the radio. However, by the time the radio squeaked a _fourth_ time, it caught her attention; the static that had given birth to scratchy ghosts of voices were now beginning to form very comprehensive sentences, occasionally cut out by what could only be attributed to poor reception or ECM, but that began to change as full sentences were heard, interrupted sporadically by static or silence. With slow, quiet, growing disbelief, Zelda's gaze turned up, her widened eyes staring at the communications suite for just a moment, confirming what she had barely remembered: The communications suite had been left to scan _Hylian_ channels.

"Durandara…!" Zelda started excitedly, sitting up in her chair, realizing this was the first time since the war that she had ever heard such a clear Hylian communications signal.

The holographic form of the AI immediately formulated in midair beside the communications suite, mathematical algorithms that ran through its hologram indicating that it was already performing all the necessary calculations and adjustments. "Already on it, your Highness."

An unexplainable thrill coursed through Zelda, a great anxiety, even as Durandara attempted to try to get the cleanest signals possible. She recognized bits and pieces of Hylian military lingua – almost everyone on the continent could speak Interlingua, but what she heard were callsigns and responses used only by Hylian military forces with great fluency – and what seemed like battle reports. The sentences spoke were full of codes and codenames, undoubtedly to prevent any eavesdroppers from understanding the full scale of their plans.

Honestly, Zelda wasn't sure how successful that would be, considering that the Haven had already fallen. _Someone_ from Valentine military intelligence must've found the Hylian military operations manuals during the last ten days.

"Attempting to adjust, stand by." The AI's voice with thick with concentration, almost as if she was in pain. "Can't exactly manipulate photons from this radio."

Zelda nodded in absentminded understanding – her attention was far more focused on the words coming through the radio – ordered, "Ready our clearance codes."

Durandara's holographic eyelids blinked once. "What clearance codes?" she asked; a hint of ire was not easily missed in her voice.

The crown princess, for her part, seemed genuinely puzzled as she struggled to understand what suddenly seemed like an awkward situation. "The ones…" she started, found herself unsure of what to say, then clarified: "Commander-in-chief authentication."

"I don't have them."

Zelda's lips parted as if to exclaim in surprise, stopped in her tracks, found herself looking at what was definitely a rather irate Durandara, who had crossed her arms and was practically tapping her foot, even though there was nothing for her to tap against but air. "What do you mean, you don't have them?" she demanded. "You're supposed to!"

"Don't get me started on that, your Highness!" the AI immediately snapped back, now unleashing the reasons behind her irritation. "Doctor Hal _did_ forget to remove all those recordings of development brainstorming with you from my memory core!" And, with a snap of her fingers, a recording suddenly played itself, and – with some embarrassment – Zelda found herself listening to _her_ voice, alongside a rather familiar statement from a very distant memory: "It's best we keep those with Impa and myself for now; knowing Durandara's likely temperament, I don't think any amount of programming and failsafes can temper her mischief."

The ending of that recording led to a moment of awkward silence between the two of them, Durandara glaring accusingly at the increasingly flustered Zelda. "So…" the crown princess finally ventured carefully, "you _don't_ have the codes."

"_No_!" Durandara practically shouted in exasperation…then, as an afterthought, added in a clearly annoyed manner, "Your Highness."

Feeling a bit too embarrassed to actually reprimand the AI's breach of royal protocol, Zelda merely allowed, as if to cover for herself, "Impa will be here shortly. She should have them."

Words and sentences occasionally faded back in and back out as Durandara continued to struggle with radio signals, but now things were getting clearer, with so much chatter coming out of the speakers. Much of it Zelda didn't understand, but she could venture a guess that it was being spoken by mid-level officers, perhaps senior commissioned field officers or junior staff officers. Even through the radio, there was a quiet edge of grim despair, of resigned determination in their voices. It seemed as if the military of Hyrule was fully aware that this was not likely a war they were going to win.

It only bolstered Zelda's belief that she needed to return to Hyrule as soon as impossible. _Immediately_.

"Compensating…" the AI continued to mutter, but was interrupted by a triple-knock on the door. Zelda recognized the strength and tone of the knock, knew it was Impa.

"Come in!" Zelda called out almost breathlessly, not sure as to whether she had left the doors unlock, not actually caring that much in her excitement.

Thankfully for Impa, the doors _were_ unlocked, and she moved graciously in, completely oblivious to the developments as she found her princess seated at Zelda's usual seat before the communications suite. "Good afternoon, your…" she began.

"Do you still have our clearance codes?" the princess interrupted almost immediately as soon as she was sure her chief of staff was in her room.

Impa stared, then, hearing the disembodied voices on the communications suite and seeing her princess so excited, widened her eyes in shock as her lips parted to take in a small gasp of breath. "Are they…?" she uttered breathlessly.

"Yes, they are," Zelda replied, almost with a laugh. She felt excited, giddy, almost trembling with excitement. "Hurry, the codes. And close the door behind you!"

Impa made for the table in the center of the sofas where they had left the bulk of their paperwork, but, realizing that she had forgotten to close the door, frantically doubled back; it was almost a comical sight. Zelda, however, was in no mood to appreciate the humor as she turned back to the form of her AI, hoping she _had_ something by now. Durandara almost looked like she was wincing in effort. "I…_think_ they can hear you now," she finally announced a bit apprehensively, then, definitely, concluded rather triumphantly. "I can confirm the reception of data packets on their side; we have two-way communications."

"To any Hylian forces on this channel," Zelda spoke immediately, deliberately keeping her words concise and slow, making sure that the sporadic channel could carry her message across clearly, "this is Crown Princess Zelda. Repeat, this is Crown Princess Zelda in Fort Garuda. I have an authentication code to confirm my status; repeat, waiting for green light on authentication."

She waited breathlessly, listened as garbled responses seemed to argue in panic, excitement. It was difficult making anything out word for word, but Zelda could imagine the scene, officers and soldiers wondering if this was truly Crown Princess Zelda, a Valentine trap, or one of the civilians playing a particularly stupid joke over the radio. Without a comprehensive response, however, she continue to repeat her message over and over in fear that maybe her words had been lost to static the first time.

The fifth time, there seemed to be a more comprehensive response – she could make out one voice over the others in the background, almost as if the person was attempting to speak to her specifically – but she felt ecstatic when she heard the following broken sentence, "…transfer…to General Morgan."

Major General Morgan, the head of Hyrule's Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance. He had been the one who saw the first real warning signs of a possible war with the detection of three Valentine energy sources – most likely what were powering the superweapons to begin with – and one of the most level-headed members of the Hylian brass. It was good to see that the young senior officer, despite all odds, had survived, and that she was being routed to him.

On the other hand, that blessing also came with the cold realization that Morgan had ascended the ranks as a technical staff officer, not an actual field combatant. There was always the chance that Zelda's transmission was being transferred to him because he was at the forefront of the Hyliam military's electronic warfare group, but if she was being transferred to him because Morgan was highest ranking officer out of the remaining brass in this theater of resistance…that did not bode well.

"Isolate that signal!" a voice suddenly rang out from the speakers with surprising clarity before fading again into the static and rolling white noise of the radio waves, and Zelda and Impa immediately exchanged looks, recognized that voice, realized that it _was_ Major General Morgan after all. "…_not_ lose it!" The voice that seemed like it had been addressing an unseen background staff was now softer, clearly directed at Zelda. "Your High…" Again, the voice faded in and out, never remaining entirely consistent or audible. "…Highness, can hear me? This is…or General Morgan. Repeat…of OLRER. Do you copy?"

"General Morgan!" Zelda exclaimed, leaning forward in her seat, her lips almost touching the microphone of the communications suite. "This is Crown Princess Zelda. Repeat, I am Crown Princess Zelda. I have authentication codes to confirm my identity, repeat, awaiting authentication." Almost immediately after, Impa finally reappeared right over the princess' shoulder, passed her a sheet with the commander-in-chief authentication codes, which Zelda began to repeat over and over; it was a twelve-symbol alphanumeric code, which she _hoped_ would make it through, especially when she had no idea if the signal would get stronger, weaker, or disappear altogether.

Impa, however, pointed out a thought that Zelda had explored only moments earlier. "Valentine forces control Hyrule City, your Highness," she whispered into her liege's ear, ensuring that those on the other side of the microphone could not hear. "We have no way of guaranteeing this truly is Major General Morgan on the other side of the line. This may be a Valentine ploy."

"I have no conclusive evidence to point either way, your Highness," Durandara was not exactly helpful on this matter either; she sounded almost annoyed at the realization of such. "The signal is weak and distorted as is, and I cannot have any semblance of accuracy with such a horrible reception."

That brought about a grimace, a dampener to her excited mood. Zelda _knew_ that both of them were right, of course, that this could easily be a trick – perhaps to lure the princess back to Hyrule, perhaps to gain her authentication codes for other purposes – but she didn't _want_ to believe it. Here she was, speaking to the bulk of her armed forces, her own people, for the first time, and yet she had to contend with the possibility that this was all a trick. She felt cheated.

At least, until _one_ idea occurred to her, one based on something so obscure, so minor, Zelda couldn't actually believe she remembered it at first.

"The last briefing we had before the war," the princess blurted into the microphone, almost fumbling with it in her hands as she leaned forward once again. "What was your suggestion as to renaming OLRER for Impa? I say again, what was the suggestion of renaming OLRER in the last briefing before the war?" Impa's eyes widened at the realization of what Zelda was doing, and only the overwhelming feeling of anticipation stopped her from breaking into a grin of pride for her liege. Durandara was, to her irritation, clueless as what was going on, knowing only that this was an obvious attempt to confirm an identity using an informal method known to only select people, but she was courteous enough to remain silent, anxiously waiting on an answer as well.

The static that pervaded the radio, a weakening signal that seemed like a dimming light, caused Zelda's heart to sink, almost feeling panicked, but – at the very last second – a scratchy voice was barely heard. "…DER," made out Morgan's voice in a startling moment of blessed clarity. "Repeat, _OLDER_."

Zelda and Impa stared at each other; no longer were they able to suppress a childlike, giddy grin that had overtaken their faces.

"Your High…" Morgan's voice continued, fading out again, desperate to try to make contact with her liege. "…Highness, did you cop…"

"General Morgan?" the princess called out, turning back to the communications suite, trying to keep her major general on the radio. "General Morgan!" She looked at the AI hurriedly. "Durandara!"

"I'm _trying_!" scowled Durandara.

But already the transmission was fading into silence, even the broken corruption of voices through the radio becoming nothing but white noise and static, like an old antenna television set slowly losing all reception as a great thundercloud passed over. Thirty seconds of complete static eventually came to be, convincing the crown princess that the signal was indeed gone, and the transmission was over.

"We lost the signal, your Highness," sighed the artificial intelligence, then, almost as if suddenly realizing this wasn't exactly the best attitude to take at the moment, quickly added despite sounding hopeful, "I'm sorry. That was, however, four minutes of confirmed transmission, 1501 to 1505."

But Zelda did not sound at all dismayed, even as she continued to look blankly ahead, a stoic expression of intense thoughtfulness. "That was _definitely_ General Morgan," she murmured, barely registering the nod of agreement from Impa in the peripheral of her vision. Again, the princess directed her attention to the hologram. "Durandara, please tell me you have a location."

"Judging from signal strength and bits and pieces of background noise, mostly from background conversation: New Wagner."

Expelling a breath in what was otherwise a slow and shaky sigh, the princess sat back in her chair and brought her hands down across her face, a gesture to relax herself, wipe away the fatigue. She realized she was trembling. For the first time in many days, Zelda felt _alive_. "Get Leonore and Captain Michaela now," she whispered to Impa, her voice barely able to contain her ecstasy. "I think we just caught a break."

It was only a scant four minutes later that Leonore and Michaela were brought into the princess' diplomatic suite, Leonore thankfully arriving just half a minute earlier to be swiftly clued in as to what had just transpired, and having just enough seconds to compose herself at the revelation as Michaela entered with a small bow that the Gerudo officers and servicewomen seemed to always greet their Hylian guests with. "Your Highness," the captain greeted courteously, her every moment formal and reserved. "You have summoned my services?"

"I have been made aware of a situation that requires my immediate presence in northeastern Hyrule, Captain Michaela," Zelda said, and Leonore couldn't help but feel that the crown princess' tone sounded almost guarded. Although she had only been with the Hylian delegation for only a few days, there was something about Jessica that easily inspired trust and kinship. Perhaps it was the realization that the young major was in over her head against her will, or that she _had_ personally commanded a small group of Gerudo IFVs to ensure Link's extraction from Hyrule after the destruction of Anansi. For some reason, however, despite the fact that Michaela seemed much better equipped to handle the task of managing this delegation, Leonore found herself feeling just as cautious as she would towards any other foreign military officer. "I understand that the generalissimo is otherwise occupied; I would ask what other channel I would need to pursue to ensure that I can fly to my country at the earliest convenience."

Michaela nodded solemnly, almost as if she was some sort of butler. "I have been authorized by Generalissimo Ganondorf to exercise all possible powers to accommodate your needs, your Highness. Arranging your flight to Hyrule is one of them. I require only a viable destination."

"New Wagner. I have reason to believe it is where the majority of the resisting Hylian forces are now based out of."

Again, Michaela gave that familiar little bow. "I understand, your Highness. I will communicate to the air force on your behalf. I must first inform you, however, that we understand the territories between New Wagner and the Gerudo-Hylian border is under enemy occupation. You will understand if extra time is required to make arrangements."

"Of course," Zelda smiled thinly and deigned to give a small, regal nod. "Please do what you can, captain."

"Yes, your Highness." Michaela took a step back towards the half-open door, apparently on her way to execute Zelda's orders. "If you will excuse me." A bow, and she swiftly whisked herself out between the double doors, closing them behind her with an audible click.

It took just a few moments to ensure that they were completely alone before Impa spoke her, her voice laced with reasonable and understandable suspicion. "They seemed a bit too prepared for that, don't you think?" she frowned.

Signaling her agreement with a nod, Zelda turned back around towards her desk, asking, "What are you thinking, Leonore?"

The director of Joint Intelligence, watching her Highness seat herself before the desk once more, quickly sought a seat in one of the nearby sofas. Royal protocol seemed to have slowly diminished in the room. "Replacing Jessica with Michaela, having Link beside Ganondorf during a troop review at Gran, and now this?" she quipped, her voice sounding close to a scowl. "I do not think it is a coincidence."

"Any definite idea on their endgame?"

Leonore's mouth twitched uncomfortably to the side. "None, your Highness. I do not have enough information to form a conclusive opinion." Difficult expressions on both Impa and Durandara's faces showed that they, too, hard no good answers for this.

The sigh that escaped from Zelda's throat hinted at both resignation and quiet determination. "It's their move, then," she muttered; it reality, she had already made her decisions. "We have to make ours. Impa, Leonore, I need both of you to accompany me to New Wagner for now. Durandara, you will stay and wait for Link."

The hologram's small eyelids fluttered in a bit of confusion, almost offense. "You don't want me with you, your Highness?" she asked testily.

Zelda, for her part, maintained her cool; in fact, her voice almost betrayed a subtle degree of guile in it. "It would be best for Emi to assume that there's no one else here trying to peek into all the wrong corners, wouldn't it?"

The hidden message and its implications were not lost upon Durandara, who, upon understanding Zelda's true intentions, broke into a sly, wry smile as she crossed her holographic arms. "Understood, your Highness," responded the AI smartly, snappily.

"Do it carefully," the princess added, stressed, realizing that Durandara was perhaps _just_ a bit too eager. "Don't try to handle more than you can; I'd rather not have everyone know we have a sentient AI."

"And just who the hell do you think I am?" the AI chuckled, allowed for a belated realization to eventually dawn upon her, and, amidst the curious stares from Impa and Leonore, finally awkwardly added, "Um, your Highness."

Choosing to ignore that particular statement, Zelda merely nodded, looking to a far wall; there were no windows for her to stand beside and stare broodingly out of, so a simple wall from her seat was going to have to do. "Prepare what we must," she finally spoke after a moment, her hands quickly gathering all the scattered documents on her desk, her impassive voice somehow greatly laced with a dangerous edge of determinism. "I will return to Hyrule, one way or another."

* * *

As per Gerudo military standards, the phone was picked up on the other end before the second ring could fade into silence. "Air force operations," a female voice spoke promptly, concisely through the receiver.

Leaning back against the seat in her office, Emi took advantage of the fact that she was currently alone as she loosened the collar of her MICO uniform. She usually wasn't this lax, but every now and then, old wounds from that damned car bomb would hurt, and she had never quite found the time to get a new custom-tailored uniform with an enlarged collar for when her throat acted up. Either that, or she kept forgetting. "This is Director Emi," she spoke; the director was actually quite pleased that her voice sounded even harsher than usual due to those old pains, giving a distinct impression of severity. "I have a classified MICO joint-executive order effective immediately. Un-log this call and grab a pen and paper."

A slight shuffling sound from the other end of the conversation indicated that the air force officer had stiffened and straightened up in her seat; a MICO joint-executive order was effectively an imperative from MICO personally endorsed by the generalissimo. They were almost always classified and kept secret at the highest possible levels. "Yes, ma'am," she replied sharply.

"Has a flight crew flying Princess Zelda and her entourage to Hyrule been selected and briefed?" Emi demanded.

"Allow me to confirm that, ma'am. Please hold."

Stereotypical "please hold the line" music began to play from the telephone's receiver, giving the impression that Emi had called customer support instead of the logistical center of one of Gerudo's military branches. She wasn't sure if it was just her running MICO in a tight high-wire act, but Emi felt highly irritated that the operator at air force operations actually had to "confirm that". The effort to fly Princess Zelda to the Hylian defending forces on the northeastern end of the continent _should_ be a top-priority operation for the Gerudo air force at this point. In Emi's opinion, the operator should've constantly kept tabs on this thing and remained ready to report on the current condition of the operation at any time.

It took fifteen seconds for the operator to get back, but nine seconds was all it took for Emi to become impatient; the operator's nervous voice as she returned to the line indicated the possibility she heard Emi's agitated foot-tapping against the polished floor. "Yes, ma'am," she reported swiftly. "A flight crew has been selected and briefed."

"Instruct them that all communications between their plane and any Gerudo forces are to be handled on this specific frequency and encryption scheme one hour after takeoff," Emi ordered, then promptly provided a specific set of numbers. "They are to be informed that this is a classified, encrypted, high-priority channel selected to prevent the enemy from discovering her Highness' location, and that they are to remain on this frequency without fail until two hours after landing."

The scribbling of a ball-point pen on paper could be heard. "Yes, ma'am," the operator replied distractedly. The flipping of paper could be heard from the air force side of the call, along with rapid keyboard strokes. "Ma'am, I need to inform you that the frequency you provided has been consistently disrupted and jammed by enemy ECM for the past week."

_Cross-referencing resources while taking orders_, Emi thought approvingly. It seemed this operator had some redeeming traits after all. "I am aware of that." Her voice was level. "The order stands."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Pass the order through who you need to, then dispose of your note," the MICO director concluded. "I will remind you that this is highly classified. Paperwork will catch up. That's all."

* * *

If the Hylian delegation had any doubt as to their suspicions regarding some kind scheme in the works by Gerudo's administrative powers, they were completely gone by the time the crown princess, the royal chief of staff, and the director of Joint Intelligence found themselves walking down the outdoor passageway towards Fort Garuda's northern helipad. It was one thing to arrange for a flight to New Wagner as quickly as possible, but considering that Captain Michaela had already made arrangements within an hour, having returned to help the Hylians with the luggage they needed to take on the trip to New Wagner, it was not unreasonable to assume that such arrangements had already been made ahead of time.

_Too soon_, Leonore frowned, realizing that events were moving ahead far faster than even she was immediately ready for as she checked her watch, realized it was now only 1600, a mere fifty minutes after they had asked Michaela to arrange for transportation to New Wagner. She accepted that there was an element of a home-field advantage…but that would most likely mean Emi, and that would most likely mean there was more going on than anyone here, Hylian or Gerudo, wanted to admit. A _lot_ more.

_Ganondorf – or, at the very least, Emi – wants us out_, Leonore mused, casting quiet glances to Zelda and Impa to see if they shared similar thoughts beneath that careful diplomatic mask of theirs. _I wonder why_.

Already, however, it was too late to change anything. If Zelda's determination hadn't set their course to a point of no return, the delegation was already being helped up into the transport helicopter, configured to house civilian comforts for the purpose of transporting delegates such as themselves in relative comfort, and their assorted baggage was being loaded. The three helped themselves into a configuration of seats, although, no sooner had they done so, two Gerudo airwomen quickly bounded onto the helicopter with quick and sure steps. They seemed more like airplane pilots rather than helicopter ones, and this suspicion of Zelda's was confirmed as one of them – a captain, judging by the insignia on her uniform – spotted the princess and quickly made her way over.

"Your Highness," the airwoman said, giving a quick salute – unusual, considering almost everyone provided a more civilian bow – before placing a hand on one of the supporting beams of the helicopter, bracing and balancing herself in the event of takeoff. "I'm Captain Kim; I'll be flown with you to Samani Airbase, and will responsible for ensuring you arrive in New Wagner safely, ma'am." She gave a sweeping glance at the Hylian delegation in their seats, offered, "Do you require assistance in strapping yourselves in?"

The gesture was kind, but seatbelt and harness configurations were not that different between Hylian or Gerudo helicopters. "Thank you, Captain Kim, we're fine," Zelda spoke, casting quick glances to Impa and Leonore to ensure they had strapped themselves in as well, and found herself relieved of any potential embarrassment when she saw that the two women were fine. "Do we have an idea of how long it will take to reach our destination?"

"Seven or eight hours if we're lucky, ma'am," Kim replied, ignoring the door closing to the rear as the pilot called out that they were taking off, followed seconds later by a gentle lurch upwards of the helicopter that slowly brought them airborne. Zelda was almost tempted to look out the window to watch Fort Garuda disappear from her eyes – there was almost something nostalgic about it, having worked here for more than ten days – but she politely kept her gaze locked firmly on the air force captain beside her. "But I must note it will probably take much longer. Ensuring your safe arrival is our top priority, and we'll do everything within our power to avoid spots where we'd be easy picking for the Valentine air force or SAM installations. I understand your need to return Hyrule as soon as possible, but your safety is our utmost concern. We won't have a royal death taint the name of the Gerudo air force."

A somewhat inappropriate last line, and a bit ironic coming from a captain of the continent's worst air force, but Zelda still managed a smile; it was a well-meaning reassurance, nothing more. "We're in your hands, captain."

That earned a curt nod from Kim, who then turned to another similarly-dressed airwoman, presumably someone to be part of her flight crew when the Hylians were to be moved from the helicopter to a transport plane at Samani. With that reprieve, Zelda slowly looked out the window, barely catching a last glimpse of Fort Garuda before the helicopter turned away from the pyramid, and the structure disappeared from her line of sight. She couldn't help but feel a bit melancholy. Despite having been taught that places were merely places, she couldn't help but feel incredibly insecure throughout these days of war, and – like it or not – Fort Garuda served as a kind of home, a place to catch one's breath, in the last ten days. And, now that she thought about it, the princess regretted not having had a chance to at least say goodbye to Major Jessica or Doctor Taylor, thank them for their kindness; in such uncertain times, it was arguable as to whether or not they'd ever see each other again.

Still, Zelda steeled herself. Those were personal concerns. Right now – _especially _now, with a great hope that things will be right once she reached her forces in New Wagner – she could not be a Hylian lady by the name of Zelda, but Hylian Crown Princess Zelda, commander-in-chief and sovereign to the Kingdom of Hyrule.

The survival of her nation demanded nothing less.

* * *

**Exoria File #018  
Excerpt from Chart 2, Comprehensive Timeline of Major Events, "Military Intelligence Coordination Office Provisional Briefing Report #02 for Defense Minister Sydney, February 3, 1507 a.s.r." (second draft)**

"January 20 – Valentine forces initiates a simultaneous invasion of Gerudo and Hyrule…

January 21 – …Major population hubs and military installations are overrun by enemy forces, including: Karachi…Sirsa Military Airbase […] Zubara […] Hyrule City falls to Valentine forces […] Hylian Royal Chief of Staff Impa and Joint Intelligence Director Leonore arrive safely to Fort Garuda…

January 22 – Crown Princess Zelda arrives safely to Fort Garuda […] First confirmed engagement against Valentine mechanized weapon Anansi by Army Group Seven in Leh, resulting in the destruction of the army group…

January 23 – …Army Group Thirteen withdraws from Leh…

January 24 – …Valentine forces launch major offensive on the northern border from Fort Regner in an attempt to take Zubara…

January 26 – All Gerudo forces temporarily withdraw from defensive positions in Zubara…

January 27 – Confirmed destruction of Anansi by Hylian Joint Intelligent Agent Link in October City […] Gerudo forces launch counteroffensive on Valentine defensive positions in Leh…

January 28 – Gerudo forces retake Leh […] Armed Defense Staff approves MICO proposal of OPERATION: TUNDRA…

January 30 – …Joint Intelligence Agent Link officially attached to Generalissimo Ganondorf's entourage of troop review at Gran Military Base on February 1…

February 1 – …Generalissimo Ganondorf conducts troop review at Gran Military Base […] Crown Princess Zelda, Royal Chief of Staff Impa, and Joint Intelligence Director Leonore leave Garuda for New Wagner…"

* * *

Author's Notes: There are times when an author decides to rewrite the entire chapter because it isn't coming out as one wants it to. Chapter Seventeen would be the first one in my case; everyone suddenly has their own plots, own agendas, own show, and so I have to skip between scenes a lot. Each section is getting shorter, with more sections being shoved into a chapter, leading to what has possibly become a somewhat convoluting and confusing mess of who-did-what-and-when. I was deeply dissatisfied with how the pacing – how well I switched from each section to the next and how they fitted together – was for Chapter Seventeen the first time I wrote it, so I ended up scratching it and rewriting it; I'm still not completely happy with it, but at least it's presentable.

Of course, that's not really an excuse for why this chapter was finally finished so late; aside from a massive writer's block, I have been – like everyone else – playing much _Dragon Age II_. Perhaps to the horror of many, there are now many ideas for a _Dragon Age_ fan fiction floating around in my head. We'll have to see what comes out of it.

Heavenly Observer: _Why do I get the feeling that Zelda's half-brother isn't as dead as everybody thinks?_

While I have generally maintained a hands-off attitude towards – as TV Tropes puts it – Wild Mass Guessing, I'm most curious as to what makes you think this. I'm neither confirming nor denying this theory, of course, but, for undisclosed reason, this line of thought intrigues me.

A Curious Stranger: _Guh... you've just raised more questions than answers Sudentor! Just as you planned I suppose... First things first I guess, I haven't reviewed your previous chapters yet. It's interesting to note that Emi is aware of Jormungand's capabilities. Probably has to do with that missing Director Sydney we heard of a while back. Looks like it's using a laser (a realistic one, not one of those tsew-tsew blaster ones) to do it's dirty work, which implies a ridiculous amount of power considering it's submerged._

_You've implied that the Zora are going to show up soon, which I look forward to seeing. The technological progression must be incredibly different compared to humans, considering the fragile nature of electronics near water. Perhaps a proliferation of military grade crossbows for weapons instead of firearms due to how gunpowder can't combust underwater... Regardless, I look forward to it._

_The issue about Southern Gerudo came as a surprise, as I don't think there was a whole lot of build-up to it. References to past rebellions and independent governors sure, but nothing like what you've just shown in this new chapter. It's a shame that we weren't able to see the spar between Ganondorf and Link though. Actions scenes are hard to write, but it's a letdown all the same._

_Lessee, the implications of the Valent King putting a quarantine of JIHQ are veeerry interesting as is Jessica's new mysterious role._

_I hope we'll get to see more of Stephen though, he seemed the most humane, albeit naive, military character we've seen._

_Ach, I've been rambling haven't I? Well, best start studying for classes and writing my fics again. (You make me look so lazy)_

I have been known for enjoying my mystique and intrigue a bit _too_ much, but let's see what I can do for you here.

First off, Emi herself is not aware of Jormungand's capabilities; there is a lot of speculation, yes, but nothing beyond what the head of Gerudo's military intelligence does, and a bit of leeway can be granted, given the power Anansi had displayed. Defense Minister Sydney is actually already back in Fort Garuda, having made an appearance at that same briefing. In an unexpected gesture of generosity (I'm clearly throwing modesty out the window here), I will confirm that Jormungand's primary weapon is a high-energy chemical laser with a maximum effective range of thirty kilometers. And, yes, it will be a fairly realistic laser, not ones so often seen in science fiction complete with colorful tracers.

The zorans will have developed different technologies with the progression of time, but due to political and social conditions, there will be great limits to their technology. An upcoming Exoria File will provide a lot more information on the zorans, including why they haven't been mentioned up until now. On the issue of abrupt reveals, though, I'm not certain as to how the situation in Southern Gerudo comes as an entire surprised – I personally thought I dropped enough hints, including the mention of two Gerudo civil wars in modern history – but that is probably a personal bias here.

The spar between Link and Ganondorf was omitted for largely four reasons. The first was that I was running out of pages for my usual eighteen-pages-per-chapter quota, and didn't think I could fit it in properly. The second was largely because any duel between them would be symbolic, and there is a narrative significance to when the two of them fight, something that I want to hold a degree of intrigue and mystique over for now. The third is that I don't think I'm good enough at writing – not _yet_, anyways – to believe I would write a battle between them and do it justice.

Lastly, I can be horribly lazy.

Unsurprisingly, the two new hints I've dropped regarding King Tacitus' quarantine of JIHQ and Jessica's new role will be revealed and explained eventually, the latter sooner than the former. Until then, please enjoy the presence of more questions, and the eventual answers to come.

Ngandu the Croc: _I guess this goes to show that no matter how well written the fic, a niche is a niche._

_The Valent King's motivations, Jessica's mission, the Gerudo informant. You've given us quite a few potential plot points to try and look into, on top of all the other mysteries you've hinted at, not the least of which is what the HECK is powering the superweapons._

_Although something you mentioned in your author's note does intrigue me. You consider the Hylians and the Gerudo in your world to all be humans instead of different races. Although that seems reasonable enough, since they can apparently breed with one another without any problems (to the Gerudo's benefit, no doubt), what factors in their environment would make it so that a certain group of humans would have this chromosomal irregularity in one area?_

_Also, from what I've read, the Hylians don't seem to have their pointy ears anymore. Is it because they've strayed so far from the three goddesses? If I'm mistaken in my reading, I apologize._

_And since you've said that at least the Zoras are still around in a significant enough capacity to be known to the general public, I'm looking forward to seeing what they have become in this more modern setting. _

_And if you do include a "Water Temple" of sorts, I would appreciate it if you made it as nightmarishly frustrating for Link as possible. You know. Just putting that out there._

_Your writing has been top notch throughout the entire story, and now that you've really gotten into the meat of things I have no criticisms left to give regarding your story elements. You don't overuse references to the point where they become distracting, your spin on the more fantastic Zelda elements seen so far are recognizable without losing their place in the modern setting, and you're each and every chapter you publish seems to build up a little more of this new world bit by bit, allowing the reader to gradually form a better picture of the nations and their cultures the more they read. It really helps in pulling me into the story, rather than just giving all the details at once and thus making it harder to appreciate the world you've written._

_And although I like all your characters, especially the way you've somehow pulled off a magnificent silent protagonist Link, I think I enjoy the way you've retooled Ganondorf. Even though he is not openly hostile for now, the way he and Emi seem to have their own little scheme going on, and the way he seems to be going out of his way to be just a bit TOO hospitable to his guests, leaves the door open for some interesting developments later in the chapter._

_Here's to hoping life doesn't slow you down more than necessary.(And just in case, sorry if I jinxed ya there.)_

_Peace._

Alas, this is one of the most significant issues I sometimes face, being jealous of how many reviews other fics have. But this is the most major fanfic project I've ever taken on, so I really do want to see it to the end, even if I only end up having a handful of dedicated readers.

You've observed a lot of plot points, and I can only promise that they'll be addressed in time. Given that I _am_ trying to (roughly) follow the general "_Zelda_ formula", a massive amount of answers will be provided halfway through the story (basically, sometime after the first three bosses – Anansi, Jormungand, and Quetzalcoatl – are defeated, and before Link has to tackle the next three bosses that lead to the endgame). Considering that we're only beginning at Jormungand, however, this may take a while; I can say that the Quetzalcoatl arc will be the shortest out of the first three, but the story between Quetzalcoatl and the eventual delivery of much-awaited answers may take longer.

The chromosomal anomaly that has led to Gerudo's predominantly female population is somewhat confined to Gerudo largely due to sociopolitical circumstances. This is not exactly an age of globalization, even though it's only taking place on a continent. All three nations are virtually operating under varying degrees of authoritarian rule (you have two royal families and a military generalissimo), Valent was militaristic and impossibly isolationist until their first strike, and – as you will discover in the following chapters – social conditions in Hyrule can be _very_ flawed. Frankly, the world of _Exoria_ has followed a different sociopolitical and technological course of advancement, resulting in what we of our world may consider to be a very strange grab-bag of traits; although _Exoria_ is closer to a one-world order than we are, and while they have certain advanced bits of technology we don't, certain other sciences lag behind, and the world's politics almost resemble something from the early 20th century. I guess what I'm trying to get at here is that the chromosomal anomaly in Gerudo is largely an issue for their ethnicity, and there hasn't been a whole lot of motivation for them to leave Gerudo to either Hyrule or Valent either.

The humans of this world still retain their pointy ears, which I think I've mentioned once or twice. Admittedly, it's not a major feature I've emphasized – rather, I may have underemphasized it – so it may be my fault in terms of negligence. As I said to A Curious Strange, the zorans – and what has happened to them now – will be revealed in an upcoming chapter and, likely, the corresponding Exoria File. There _will_ be a "water dungeon" (kind of), and it _will_ be frustrating…but probably not frustrating in the way most readers might immediately assume.

And, of course, I must thank you for your faith in my writing and world-building capabilities; I certainly don't have much confidence as you seem to. I think I can promise that Link – having spoken "on-screen" precisely once in the prologue – will speak at least one more time before _Exoria_ ends, but I won't say when, and I won't say how many more times. And, yes, Ganondorf is playing his own game, but his motivations, as usual, will be kept a carefully-guarded secret.

Either way, thank you very much for your long and thoughtful review. I hope to see more from you soon.

Mikure: _I am so curious to figure out what happens next, as well as what secret mission Jessica is so reluctant to take. Also, I can't help but wonder what happened to King Robin, as he just seems to have faded into obscurity at the moment-but knowing your writing style, there will probably be some interesting way he makes his way back into the story somehow._

_Looking forward to another great update!_

I have not forgotten about King Robin II – _yet_, and, yes, I _do_ know where he or his body is right now – but I will remind you that the man has been in a coma for two years now following a car accident, so I wonder (no, not really, I actually know, but I like to keep you guessing) what his chances of "waking up" are…

Zeldafan: _Love this fic, though I'm curious if countries outside the continent like Labrynna will play a role._

They will not. The continent upon which Hyrule, Gerudo, and Valent are based is the only remaining major landmass that supports civilization. Life starts and ends here.

Anon: _Have you ever considered making a map of the world we're being shown in Exoria? It might give your readers a better idea of where things are-I was kind of confused as to how Juno was able to make it to South Gerudo, since I figured they'd have to traipse right through the part of Gerudo our heroes are in to get there. Although now that I think about it, smuggling of some sort shouldn't be too hard to pull off for them. Also, the girl who bumped into Link looked distinctly different from the Gerudo (green eyes/black hair), so wouldn't that kind of person be easily recognizable and suspicious? Then again, there's nothing that said foreigners couldn't immigrate...Geez, I'm countering everything I'm saying. -.-;_

_As for the whole thing with North and South Gerudo, I'm getting history vibes, haha. It seems like it's often the northern part of countries that end up industrializing while the south remains rural (USA and Italy, for example). Add in the fact that southern Gerudo is also more of a locally based government kind of thing while the north preferred a more centralized gov is adding to the parallelism between Gerudo and the US pre-civil war era. It's interesting. Makes me think of it as a kind of "what if?" thing. _

_And also, what is with King Tacitus? No one seems to know what the hell he's doing; not his reasons for joining the Valentine coup nor his reasons for cutting off his own military from valuable info. Isn't anyone challenging him on that, or does he have absolute executive control or something?_

I _have_ considered making a map, but I decided against it. I have a rough idea of what the continent looks in my head, but I also recognize that trying to solidify some data _too_ early on may prove to be detrimental to my progress. I will also remind you that Southern Gerudo is currently connected to the territories being held – or otherwise invaded – by Valentine forces; the heroes are still quite some ways east in Garuda. Also, Gerudo generally has had a bit of a wider spectrum of hair and eye colors in recent centuries, due to the inevitable introduction of other bloodlines into their heritage. For the most part, however, their hair colors are dark, so most naturally colors short of blond or white or similar are generally considered to be normal for the Gerudo. Brown, obviously, is still the most predominant color, but it is far from universal. So, no, the girl doesn't stand out…except for that boomerang of hers.

Gerudo's cultural split is largely determined by the distance to the borders. Northern Gerudo (few actually call it that, by the way) is bordered by Hyrule and Valent, so aside from seeing foreigners on practically an everyday basis, they have had better chances of witnessing technological progress. For Southern Gerudo (strictly speaking, Southern Gerudo is actually located in the south-southeast), however, they had felt that not only are distant, unseen powers changing their countrymen, but also influencing national politics to Garuda, located moreso to the north (northeast, actually). To many of them, it had been an unexplained, uninvited, and unwelcome change to their way of life. With Valent's invasion and previous secret negotiations with factions in Southern Gerudo, there are largely two lines of thought prevalent in the region today. The first is the belief that Southern Gerudo should unify the country once more under a theocratic federation, where each city or province has its own autonomous power with little central oversight beyond times of crisis. The second belief is that the northerners have become irredeemably corrupt and decadent through the influence of foreigners, and that they should be abandoned for the sake of creating a better sovereign nation from the region of Southern Gerudo.

And there are very specific – and very important – reasons behind Tacitus' actions, including his joining of the Valentine Revolution seventeen years ago, and his quarantine of Joint Intelligence headquarters. They will be explained before _Exoria_'s end (it's actually pretty safe to say it's one of the driving forces of this story). Legally speaking, Tacitus' Valentine regime has given him full executive power. As Valent is styled as a constitutional monarchy, albeit a rather militaristic and isolationist one, there _are_ legal boundaries to Tacitus' powers. However, the limits are so impossibly distant that the king can execute any fairly intelligent decision – not anything insane or nonsensical – and not be anywhere close to the limits of his executive power. Of course, that does not mean his position is completely unassailable; like every other nation what amounts to a military dictatorship, Tacitus' power is supported and protected by his military forces, and they can turn on him if widespread sentiment in the military is anti-royalty.


	19. Omake One

Author's Note: Yes, this is appearing at the very top this time. It will appear at the end again.

Re-reading through some of the stuff I've written already a few days ago, it had occurred to me – as I got to my April Fool's joke in _Exoria_ – that I have been writing this for over a year, as time had been catching up to the point where I was supposed to be writing a _second_ practical joke. In fact, by the time I began to write this entry, it was _precisely_ a year and a half since I first started working on _Exoria_. How time flies…and yet I'm not even _close_ to the halfway mark yet. There's still quite a long road ahead, but I'm hoping I can manage it all the same.

This would usually be the time in the year where I'm obligated to write a _second_ April Fool's joke chapter (for those who did not have the chance to see it before I took it down, I had put up a fake version of Chapter Ten with very weird humor in it). For those who are quite savvy at this, however, that I'm talking about this now should tell you that it won't be the case. My reasons are twofold: That some readers probably already expect an April Fool's joke chapter from me, and that I don't have sufficient ideas for a joke, being seriously humor-impaired.

That said, however, I'm not leaving you with empty hands for now. Taking a slight break from the main plot for a bit, here's a little omake that I hope you'll all enjoy regardless.

* * *

**Omake One**

Perhaps it was due to the anxiety and the uncertainty of the situation, but with every lurch and bump and sputter from the two-engine plane, someone uttered an extensive string of profanities in their own dialect, usually unintelligible to all but one or two others sitting on the plane. Their nervousness was not without reason, however; every member of Foxtrot Company, 2nd Airborne Battalion, Army Group Three was aware of just how utterly screwed up their mission was, and how likely they were likely to fail before the operation even _started_.

There was also the fact, Private First Class Sira knew all too well, that this would be the first time in the history of the 2nd Airborne Battalion that they were going to airdrop during wartime. Even worse was the fact that they were going to land behind enemy lines at _night_.

The large transport plane shuddered again from what Sira could only guess was turbulence, causing her to visibly wince in her seat. She wasn't alone; as proud as many Gerudo soldiers were of their country and military, the sorry state of their air force – complicated by natural desert conditions that made flight extremely difficult – was an open embarrassment. Her hands instinctively tightened at the edge of her seat as she forced herself to look out the window at the night horizon from her side seat. Keeping one's gaze riveted on the horizon beyond instead of at the swaying interior of the plane was supposed to help…or so they said.

A warm, gentle feeling descended upon Sira's left hand, and her head inadvertently twitched left in shock, relaxed as she saw the gentle, smiling face of Corporal Manee beside her, a gloved hand upon her own, as if to comfort her. The private managed a small smile, closed her eyes for a moment as their fingers intertwined almost subconsciously, and she tilted her head just a bit on Manee's shoulders; their helmets bumped once at the gesture. Manee had always been there for her, and she always would be.

Sitting beside them on the aisle, Private First Class Danielle made a face as she watched the two become openly intimate with each other on a large transport plane carrying a complement of more than two dozen paratroopers, but not for the reasons one might otherwise expect. "Damn it," she muttered loud enough for both of them to hear. "Stop doing that. I swear, it's bad luck." The machine gunner of the fireteam Kukri Two-Two, led by Manee as team leader, was not only single but, like most other infantrywomen, greatly superstitious, and believed that every affectionate gesture exchanged, wills written, or vows made just before a battle increased the chances that someone was going to bite the dust.

But she knew she was practically alone in discouraging feelings, especially when similar actions of bonding were being shared here and there through the plane. In every other military force, such gestures of affection and anything resembling homosexuality – _especially_ in Hyrule – would've been met with much ridicule, reprimand, and controversy. In a country where ninety-eight percent of the total population was female, however, it was outright impossible for all women not to form intimate ties beyond platonic affection. In fact, it was a widely accepted cultural norm, even in the Gerudo military. Squad leaders, in fact, were known to promote such relationships, arguing that it adds to the camaraderie much needed by fireteams.

"Maybe I ought to get you a nice girl as well," Manee grinned, paused as the plane shook a little again once more, rattled them like rocks in a tin can, causing Sira to flinch on her shoulder. "That way you won't freak yourself out before every battle."

"No thank you, ma'am," Danielle snorted, making a confident grin of her own. "I'm keeping myself available for a hot, single guy, and start a family, lots of daughters."

That caught the attention of a few nearby pataroopers, who joined in on the conversation in a jovially, ruthlessly sarcastic way only paratroopers, male or female, could manage. "Hylian or Valentine?" someone in the left – Manee didn't turn around and see who in the interests of keeping Sira's head on her shoulder – called out.

"Valentine?" came another voice from the left with a sharp laugh. "You're going to piss of a lot of people if you're caught 'fraternizing with the enemy'."

"Gerudo, girl," laughed Danielle, thus inviting a lot of whooping, cheering, and jeering from all around at such a prospect.

"You're in for a long wait," Manee snickered. There just weren't enough Gerudo guys to go around, and Danielle didn't look like someone who liked to share.

Danielle punched Manee on the forearm, indirectly jolting Sira on the other side, who bolted up slightly in shock, then fired a disapproving look at her fellow private first class. "Hey, if a paratrooper can't land a Gerudo guy, who can?" demanded Danielle.

Manee stuck out a tongue teasingly at her machine gunner. "How about I don't answer that question?"

An undoubtedly scathing, sarcastic reply would've emerged from Danielle's lips had the P.A. not suddenly come on with a screeching static sound across the speakers that served to agitate belligerent jeers from virtually everyone in their seats, connecting the pilot of the aircraft with the two dozen paratroopers in the hold. "Ladies, this is your captain speaking," came that cool, never-flinch voice of a pilot of Gerudo's daring all-volunteer transport crews. "We'll be passing checkpoint three in three minutes. If you haven't done your final equipment checks, I'd advise you do so now."

* * *

Operation: ALAISIAGAE had one specific objective: The re-taking of Nabil City from occupying forces. Not only was Nabil City the logical choice as a rallying point for all military forces operating in the province of Nabil, it was also home to the Nabil City Airport, which Valentine forces had converted into a temporary military airbase from which the majority of regional air force operations were based. If Gerudo could re-take Nabil, they would have a foothold in the region, reduced enemy air capacity, and a possible shortcut to attack where they believed Valentine Seventh Corp HQ was located.

With the confirmed destruction of Anansi, Valent's ground advance had been stopped cold in its tracks. While MICO was still attempting to figure out exactly how much of this was attributed to logistical concerns or a drop in morale, high command was all too eager – the rank and file considered it to be _dangerously_ overzealous – to initiate counterattacks and reclaim provinces that had been lost to the initial Valentine blitzkrieg. Furthermore, MICO reported that Valentine lines, having become overly dependent on Anansi, were stretched impossibly thin, and the positions in Nabil City were undermanned. With the majority of Gerudo's military now armed, supplied, and deployed, the Armed Defense Staff was convinced it was time to take the fight to the enemy. Nabil City was one of the primary targets for the first phase of a nationwide counterattack, a priority target that was to be secured before future operations could be mounted.

To the dismay over virtually everyone in Foxtrot and the 2nd Airborne Battalion, however, there was an unhealthy dose of politics in this decision. Airborne command was much too eager to show what Gerudo paratroopers could do in wartime. By no means were paratroopers special forces in any capacity, being designated as conventional infantry outfits along with everyone else, but they were still probably the closest to the nation's special forces as Gerudo's military could get at present. Airborne command undoubtedly hoped that Operation: ALAISIAGAE would serve as a shining example of how future offensive or counteroffensive operations would be carried out.

To virtually everyone in the 2nd Airborne Battalion, they felt they were stuck between a rock and a hard place: Not only was so much depending on them, but they would actively shoved into the fray in the future if they succeeded to prove a point by the pen-pushers upstairs.

Which led to the reason why they were even parachuting into Nabil City. The main attack force of Operation: ALAISIAGAE would be the 3rd and 4th Battalions of Army Group Three, a large collection of infantry and armored vehicles that would basically roll in and destroy anything not carrying a Gerudo banner. Resistance would be heavy, but the idea was that they had enough manpower and firepower to complete a fast, coordinated assault on Valentine positions to force an enemy retreat within a matter of hours. However, they were also assaulting the heart of enemy regional air power, which meant that ground forces would be extremely suspect to rapid air strikes by the continent's most powerful air force. The ability for the Valentine air force to scramble and initiate defensive maneuvers was considered by the Armed Defense Staff to be the key pivotal factor as to whether or not the assault on Nabil City would succeed. So airborne command went ahead and suggested that Foxtrot Company be airdropped onto Nabil City Airport twenty minutes before the attack proper. At best, Foxtrot would be able to retake the airport entirely by eliminating all enemy air force ground personnel; at worst, they'd provide one hell of a distraction that would prevent air force operations from achieving full potential.

In theory, anyways.

The basic plan was that a fleet of fixed-wing transport aircraft carrying Foxtrot Company would fly right over the airport while maintaining stealth. There would be window of time between the point where they have to sacrifice stealth for altitude and the moment by which they would be _seriously_ vulnerable to attack – not that they wouldn't be vulnerable to attack to begin with – a window in which their fighter-bomber escorts would fly in and ahead, attempt to destroy as many ground targets as possible, and attract anti-air weaponry away from the transport planes while the transport planes themselves deployed as much flares and chaff as possible to prevent them from being targeted by ground-based SAMs.

It was not lost upon anyone that they were flying on a small armada of transport planes right above an enemy-held airport. The planes would blow radar the whole way by remaining below five hundred meters – command had pretty blatantly admitted that even they weren't sure if five hundred meters was sufficient to stay below Valentine detection – but, at sixty kilometers away from the airport, all planes would begin a state of climb to achieve maximum altitude within the time Valentine forces needed to scramble their air force. That time was put at eight minutes: Thirty seconds for the local air force commander to confirm that this was a threat and give authorization to scramble, a minute and a half for the pilots to get to their planes, two minutes for quick pre-flight checks, another two minutes for taxing across the runway, and two minutes to achieve takeoff and swing around to target Gerudo aircraft.

It was one of the rare moments for any military force in the world where the enlisted suddenly became good at basic arithmetic. The Gerudo paratroopers knew that their transports had a rate of climb of about nine meters per second. Multiply that by eight minutes, and add their initial stealth altitude, and that left them with little more than four thousand and five hundred meters…which was effectively the point in altitude where the paratroopers would really have to worry about their planes being shot down by enemy aircraft…provided that they weren't shot down by ground-based SAMs first.

This effectively meant that they were going to jump from their airplane from four thousand five hundred meters above surface. In a typical HALO jump, the plane would be at a minimum altitude of seven thousand six hundred meters; they were doing it in _half_ the altitude of a "typical" HALO jump. Furthermore, the recommendation was that the parachute be fully deployed at one hundred and fifty meters high. It generally took three seconds for a parachute to be fully deployed, which is then followed by little more than ten seconds before landing; the normal "minimum altitude" for deployment they were trained for was two hundred and fifty meters, again nearly half the standard altitude.

That they were supposed to do this while they and their planes were being shot at from all directions was no source of comfort to anyone.

* * *

"Goddamn amateurs," Danielle griped even as she and every other paratrooper on the plane began a quick, frantic, last-minute check on all their equipment, including rifles, machine guns, grenade launchers, and parachutes. No one bothered to check their reserve chutes; at the altitude they were going to pull the cord, by the time they noticed that the main chute wasn't working, it'd be too late to pull the reserve chute, and pulling both worked just about as well as a freefall. "Signing us up for a goddamned, half-assed operation such as this."

"We get the idea, now shut up," Manee groused. "You're making us all twitchy." It was true; with paratroopers a relatively new component of the Gerudo army, airborne command was far less experienced than either their Hylian or Valentine counterparts, with the enlisted having more experience than the officers in the rear echelons that rarely ever went out in the field or made a jump. But while Manee agreed and wished she could give airborne command an earful as well, Danielle's complaining, at present, only served to stir up resentment and uncertainty against their own. They could do that _after_ they survived this operation.

Seemingly unashamed by the rebuke of her fireteam leader, Danielle simply quipped, "I am an infantrywoman…"

"…and it is our creed to bitch and whine until the absolute last possible moment," quite a number of paratroopers from around finished with a laugh, knowing those lines all too well.

"Indeed," Manee smiled thinly. "Now shut up."

It was unlikely that the private would, but whatever she would've said, Danielle was interrupted by a second time by a bright orange flash from out the right side of the plane through the window, causing virtually everyone to pile up against the right windows just as a shockwave rocked the plane. Unfortunately for Manee, Sira, and Danielle, they all happened to be on the right side of the plane, causing them to be practically crushed by a rush of paratroopers on the left to suddenly pile against them in their attempt to look out the windows. Most missed the view, but quite a few swore loudly as they caught a glimpse of two fireballs that their own planes swiftly surpassed burning against the backdrop of a cliff formation.

"Shit!" came the most widely-used epitaph of the moment.

"Get the hell off me," Manee scowled in agitation, violently shoving a paratrooper off her and Sira's shoulders back to the left side of the plane, checking the straps on her parachute pack while she was at it. Sira remained silently, but seemed none too pleased either.

"What the hell happened?" someone asked.

"I think they crashed into some cliffs," came a reply.

"No goddamn way!"

"We flying too damn low!"

"Someone get the pilot to goddamn pull up before we bloody crash into something!"

"Everyone sit the hell down!" Sergeant Jane, team leader of Kukri Two-One and effectively heading all Kukri Two fireteams, screamed at the increasingly unruly paratroopers. Her order was well-timed, with almost all of them finally hitting their seats just as the plane noticeably tilted, the plane finally pulling up, indicating they were finally eight minutes away from the drop zone. Engine wash from the fighter jets rattled the armor of their transport plane as the Gerudo fighter-escorts darted ahead to attract the attention and fire of anti-aircraft installments and enemy fighters up ahead.

The next eight minutes, to Sira, were pure hell. The sky lit up with tracer fire and exploding flak as enemy ordinance targeted the skies. She was not a pilot, but the private knew that just about any one of those shots could easily gut and destroy their transport and everyone in it in a single direct hit. Everyone around them swore, tensed in their seats, muttered prayers; Sira herself found only a quantum of solace in keeling her hand tightly clutched around Manee's own, wishing that those eight minutes would soon be over. Every now and then, a nearby explosion would rattle the plane violently, its flash brighter than the tracers and missiles and thrusters and flares outside, indicating that a missile had detonated, possibly finding its target.

The worst part of a paratrooper's operation was the part where they were waiting on the plane. It didn't have the thrill of freefall before the jerk of a parachute deployment broke your fall, and it didn't have the familiarity of a firefight where one was in their own element. Sitting on a plane flying across the battlefield was like sitting in the world's most sophisticated mouse trap as people threw bullets and missiles at it from every which direction, and one couldn't get out until the pilot – some fly-girl whose life you're entrusting to take this cumbersome hunk of junk through a storm of exploding metal – got the colloquial mousetrap to the right altitude. Until then, paratroopers were just waiting, helpless, wondering when the next missile will target _them_ instead and blow their transport into tiny bits of burning metal.

Which was precisely what happened to another plane as another explosion, brighter than all the others, flashed outside the plane. "Shit!" Manee hissed, watching the outline of one of their transports burn in the middle of an explosion, the result of a direct hit by a surface-to-air missile that must've blown open the plane's fuselage. The wreck's momentum allowed for the frame to sail upwards for a bit before gravity took over, sending the burning carcass plummeting right back to the ground. Pieces of scrap metal and components trailed its wake amidst the flames even as bodies – Manee couldn't tell if they were corpses or survivors – fell from what remained of the plane.

She checked her watch. Six minutes had already passed since they started pulling up; it felt more like sixty.

"Two minutes until drop off!" Sergeant Jane called out. "Everyone line up and prepare for…"

Their aircraft rattled with a force the occupants couldn't possibly ignore, very nearly throwing all of them out of their seats had they not been strapped in. Some of them, however, had already unbuckled their harness, and were unceremoniously thrown across the aircraft, screaming as they sailed across the air and crashed against a small wall of paratroopers. Manee winced as Sira shrieked in fright in her ear; the corporal managed to look out the window in time to see the source of the problem: Their right turbine was on fire. Smoke obscured much of the wing, preventing her from seeing whether the wing had been shot by a missile, flak, or anti-aircraft rounds. Manee wasn't sure it was going to matter much longer, though; the plane was still airborne, but barely, with the aircraft already tilting to the right, barely kept aloft by a single engine. Not to mention it was trailing fire and smoke, making it an easy picking for the enemy.

"Open the hatch!" Manee screamed as she unfastened the straps securing her to her seat with one hand, doing the same with Sira's harness with her other. "Open the goddamn hatch!"

"We're not over the target area yet!" someone incredulously replied.

Manee didn't care. She didn't care that they were only four thousand meters up in the air and outside their landing target; she was _not_ staying in this deathtrap any longer. They _all_ needed to get out before they didn't have a chance to land. "_Open the hatch_! _Open it open it open it_!"

Her sentiments were echoed by many of the other enlisted; one of them closest to the rear hatch quickly stumbled and climbed to the rear, managing to pull the rear lever, allowing the hatch to slowly open…just as she disappeared in an instant within an explosion courtesy another missile that ripped apart the rear of the plane and instantly killed the paratroopers closest to the hatch, which was reduced to shreds before it was ripped from the plane entirely. The missile had most likely missed the aircraft itself, but its proximity sensors had detected that the missile was close enough for splash damage to cripple its target, and detonated mid-flight.

There was no question about it now; the plane was going down hard.

Manee, despite having been shell-shocked by that explosion, managed to regain her bearings even as her recovering sense of vertigo reported that they were on a plane that was experiencing a prelude to a chaotic tumble from which it could never stabilize from. She instinctively looked right first, ensured that Sira was alright; despite looking back with a look of confused terror, she was whole. Danielle, on the other hand, had already been thrown across the plane by the time Manee looked left, thrown against the left wall, crumpled against the floor.

"Danielle!" Manee hollered out even over the failing engines of their transport, sliding right over to her machine gunner, pulling Sira along."Danielle, are you alright?" She picked Danielle up, shook her, trying to pull her back up. "_Are you alright_?"

"Bloody hell…!" Danielle groaned in pain and confusion, apparently fine other than feeling utterly pained. That was going to have to be enough.

"Get up, get up!" shouted Manee, pulling Danielle up to her feet…while she still could. In a few more seconds, the plane would enter a spin, and then getting out would be a completely different challenge altogether. Right now, she needed to get her entire fireteam out of there. "Kukri Two-Two, on me!" she picked up Sira and Danielle, screamed to her assistant machine gunner to follow, made her way to the burning wreck of a rear. "_Let's go, let's go, let's go_!" Ignoring the flames, she took her rifleman and machine gunner in both arms, jumped over the jagged teeth and spikes of charred, twisted metal, and jumped out the burning, plummeting plane.

Into the darkness they fell.

* * *

Corporal Manee joined the Gerudo paratroopers for one simple reason: She wanted to be the best.

Of course, it extended a bit more beyond that. In a world where the draft was a relic of the Second Continental War, Manee joined the military for one simple reason: Her family was poor. Once upon a time, their house owned one of the greatest patches of oasis farmlands in Southern Gerudo, but the winds stopped favoring them for just long enough for the business to go bankrupt, and now they owned a fraction of that land only by name, their services having long been contracted to larger farms, larger businesses. The times had changed, but no one seemed to have informed Manee's parents, who still seemed to live as though Gerudo was an agrarian society, and bore far more children than they could raise in hopes that there would be a reversal of fortune that never came.

Manee was lucky in the sense that she was the third child, just young enough to avoid the expectations of managing the household, but just old enough to be important enough to be put through basic schooling. But she didn't do very well in that, and dropped out of high school due to delinquent behavior. But girls grew up, and so did Manee. Hunger did not discriminate by age, and she could tell that the number of dishes on the dinner table every month grew smaller and smaller. When her former classmates graduated from high school and began to move into college, Manee enlisted in the military to take the burden of an extra mouth off the family and to be an extra source of family income.

But Manee had always been competitive, and immediately signed up for the paratroopers of the 2nd Airborne Battalion, an outfit within Army Group Three that they had only begun to form. It didn't matter to her that the job entailed jumping out of an aircraft from thousands of meters above ground. It didn't matter that the aircraft that they'd be jumping out from were some of the continent's worst flying machines up there. It didn't matter that thirty percent of all who applied for the all-volunteer paratrooper outfit washed out in the two-month training regime to "sort out the thin from the fat". In Manee's eyes, they were the best the Gerudo army had to offer, so that was where she belonged.

And she wanted to be the best within the paratroopers as well, so she trained and excelled in wherever she was needed, volunteered in whatever was needed. Someone upstairs must've noticed; for someone who entered the service as a measly private without a commission, she shot up the ranks, being promoted to corporal within a matter of months. She led by example; Manee never ordered anyone to do anything she wouldn't do herself, made sure she was at the front of every charge. She was never in the back…sometimes much to the frustration of the fireteam she was leading; it was one thing to demonstrate courage, another to put herself at risk too often, _especially_ when she was supposed to be commanding the fireteam.

Manee knew she'd likely only ever get up to only sergeant in promotions, never higher. She was a high school dropout, not nearly "smart" enough to get a commission to the more "cultured" ranks. But, to her, ranks and paygrades didn't matter. She was a natural leader out in the field. She was the best. All she needed to do was to lead, charge onto the battlefield with a rifle in one hand, and others would follow. Operation: ALAISIAGAE was no different.

That was simply going to have to do. And that was more than enough.

* * *

A missile – an air-to-air missile fired from a fighter jet, not a SAM – shot right past them so fast and so close, Manee, diving through the sky to the ground below with Sira and Danielle, almost thought they were going to be caught up in the backblast…had she actually had time in that split-second to react. It crashed against the plane just as some more paratroopers spilled out from the plane, and the direct hit tore the plane to shreds, destroying it utterly as burning debris rained out from the sky.

But Manee had no time to worry about that. At four thousand meters up high, she had no more than twenty-eight seconds to get herself as close to the target area as possible and fully deploy her parachute; half a second late, and she'd end up as a messy red splat on the ground.

Instinctively, she, Sira, and Danielle quickly linked hands and extended their limbs, spread themselves in midair to expose as much of their bodies to air resistance, serving not only to slow their descent by a matter of seconds – some _very_ valuable seconds – but to control the _direction_ of their descent. Manee could tell from experience that they weren't going to land _on_ the airport terminals proper, but they'd at least land near the runways. Good enough; they'd be out in the open with very little cover if they missed the hangars, but she'd be _very_ happy to get her feet on the ground right about now.

There was another reason for the maneuver: Debris was raining from the sky, and Manee wanted those pieces of burning metal to shoot past them _first_…instead of pelting them from above while and after they deployed their parachutes.

All three of them looked upwards, did their best to maneuver themselves through the debris that rained down like a meteor shower. It was both easier and harder than it sounded; their relative speeds meant that the debris only slowly hurtled past them, but trying to make precise movements in midair, especially when all three of them were trying to stay together, was near-impossible. The easiest way was simply to avoid the largest, closest, and most obvious pieces possible…and hope the rest of the debris that couldn't be avoided either missed them, or were small enough not to make a difference. Anything was better than having a hole burned in their parachute while they were trying to land.

It was clear that they weren't alone. Ahead, dozens of other paratroopers were jumping from the surviving Gerudo transport planes, silhouettes of human figures outlined against the dark sky, their postures suggesting that they were alive and diving, not dead and dropping. It seemed that a sizeable number of Foxtrot Company was still going to land on or near the primary airport facilities. They weren't the only ones in the sky, though, and fighter jets were cutting through the air left and right, with only missiles and tracers overtaking their speed, filling the air.

The ground was coming up faster and faster, and it soon came time for them to let go of each other, split up, to give each other enough room to deploy their parachutes. Manee gave a quick look at where Sira and Danielle were drifting, made a mental reference in her mind as to the rough locations where they were going to land, before twisting her body, tilting herself to one side, controlling her descent, moving her closer towards the hangars down below where there was more cover.

Finally, at what she considered to be the very last possible second, she pulled the cord on her parachute. Her pack opened, and the main chute shot up, expanded, a process that took three seconds before it caught the most air resistance possible. Manee winced as a tight jerk pulled across her body where the straps of the pack caught her, roughly slowing her descent at just a bit over a hundred and fifty meters up.

But the parachute did not immediately slow Manee's descent, only decelerated it. That was how parachutes operated, and that was exactly what was supposed to happen, but the ground was still coming up frighteningly fast. The corporal quickly pulled on one side of the parachute to allow it to drift sideways, trying to pick up as much speed as possible, hoping that the sideways drifting momentum would be enough to diminish a possibly-fatal landing into a merely painful one.

Whether or not that was necessary as her descent continued to rapidly slow was certainly debatable, but Manee still felt it was prudent. She managed to land swiftly feet first, and her first instinct was to loosen her legs and throw her weight forward as her hands quickly released the straps of her parachute pack, tucking herself into a small protective ball. She rolled across the ground, skidding, trying to position her body in a way where her protective pads would be the areas that struck the ground. Manee didn't delude herself into thinking she was going to get away without a scratch – there were going to be some nasty scrapes and bruises at the end of the day – but she'd count every single injury avoided at this point a small blessing.

Her roll finally came to a halt, and while she felt so sore that the thought of just lying there for a moment to catch her breath was sorely tempting, Manee knew there was no time for that. She dizzily got back on her feet, spotted the nearest hangar at twenty meters away, and quickly made a dash for it…just as machine gun fire from a sandbag emplacement a hundred meters away suddenly opened up on her, sending a spray of bullets her way. Manee scrambled on all fours before managing to break into a sprint, hindered by a slight limp, to the space between the last and second-to-last hangars from the airport proper, finding cover behind the buildings' walls.

It was only then that the corporal took a deep breath, keeping herself hidden in the darkness, ensuring that there were barrels and crates in the alley to keep her covered in case some tried to attack from the sides. She winced, swore as the spur of the moment passed, found pain shooting up her left leg. It was manageable, but it still stung like hell. The first thing she made was an equipment check; all of her weapons, ammunition, and accessories were still intact. There were quite a few scratches on her rifle from such an abrupt landing, but there were no obvious dents, and everything seemed to be in working order. Only then did Manee look up and around, looking for fellow Gerudo paratroopers, but she saw no one.

_Sira and Danielle should be nearby_, Manee thought, shoving a full clip into her assault rifle before dropping to a knee, looking around the corner of the hangar, trying to sneak a peek at where the machine gun had been shooting at her earlier. She saw green silhouettes move to and fro near the sandbags where the machine guns were now shooting at distant paratroopers landing closer to the airport. There had to be more Valentine infantrymen across the stretch of hangars that led up to the main airport facilities.

There was, however, no point in trying to charge up to the machine gun. Manee quickly turned around in a combat pose, kept her assault rifle ready, moved towards the other end of the alley. Already, she had a mental map of the airport and where she was in her head; she was at the very end of the stretch of hangars. Moving towards the airport, she would keep away from the open areas of runways on the right, sticking instead to the left on the airport's perimeter, using the hangars for cover, regrouping with Kukri Two-Two and other Gerudo fireteams, moving closer to the airport, and taking out targets of opportunities.

It was at the end of the alley, however, that Manee ran into trouble. She had just turned the corner when she found herself looking at three Valentine infantrymen bearing down on her location from just thirty meters away; their gazes locked for just a split second before bullets started flying between them. Everyone immediately dove back into the alleys for cover as bursts of automatic fire were exchanged. "Shit," muttered the corporal, knowing that she was at a severe disadvantage. Infantry tended to operate better in groups by utilizing cover and covering fire. One rifleman could keep her pinned down around the corner while two more got closer to close in for the kill. Manee needed to find something to even the field; she wondered if the barrels further back in the alley were filled with combustible fluids, wondered if she could use that as an impromptu improvised incendiary explosive, something flashier than what her fragmentation grenades could provide right at the moment.

As it turned out, however, she didn't need to. As the Valentine three-man fireteam passed the alley just before Manee's, a burst of fire suddenly erupted from further within. One of the Valentine soldiers had turned to cover his teammates from the side as they moved to pass the alley, prudently ensuring that nothing would ambush them from the flank, but he was just a split-second too slow, and two bullets buried themselves into his chest, and he crumpled to the ground. Both surviving riflemen turned, but another duet to bullets blew messy holes through one soldier's head. The remaining Valentine soldier fired twice into the alley…just as a paratrooper burst from the alley, using her own rifle to push aside her enemy's own as if she was engaged in some kind of sword duel. Simultaneously, her other hand pulled out a handgun in a single swift motion, and the barrel had just leveled itself with the Valentine soldier's chest when it flashed twice, puncturing the man's body armor at such a close-ranged double-tap, and blasting him to the ground. With all members of the enemy fireteam on the ground, the paratrooper used her pistol to implant a round into the heads of the two soldiers with intact heads, ensuring that they were truly dead and wouldn't be getting up.

Looking around to ensure that there wouldn't be more Valentine soldiers sneaking up from behind or the side, Manee quickly left the alley, moving forward to the paratrooper up ahead, covering her even as the paratrooper holstered her handgun and pulled herself together, releasing a deep, shaky breath. Gently, Manee placed a hand on the paratrooper's shoulder, patted it twice in reassurance. "Good shooting, Sira," she nodded with a small smile.

Turning around in a motion that looked uncharacteristically fragile for a Gerudo paratrooper, Sira did her best to shakily return that smile as the two ducked back into the alley, readied themselves, and covered each other as they continue to move down the line of hangars. Now there were two.

* * *

Private First Class Sira joined the 2nd Airborne Battalion for one simple reason: Manee wanted to go there.

The doctors had never really figured out exactly why Sira had general anxiety disorder even as a young child; as far as they were concerned, she had been well-raised and cared for, with loving parents, an extremely well-to-do family with all the comforts a child could ask for, and no history of trauma. But everyone had worried when the cheerful, playful, excitable Sira started changing at three or four years of age; her behavior became subdued, her mannerisms hesitant, her personality repressed. It gave way to anxiety, to uncertainty, to fear.

Sira never did figure out why either, and she knew she likely never would. But the fact remained that she was always anxious, always worrying, always fearful, always expecting the worst to happen. The realization that this was a liability – as the only child of her powerful household, there were so many expectations of her in and outside the family – only seemed to make things worse. Sira had little in the way of friends she could remain comfortable with, even with her parents and family, of whom she always felt she was somehow disappointing. There was little the world could offer her in the way of companionship.

Until Manee. Sira could never explain exactly _why_ she didn't feel so worked up and nervous around Manee, the delinquent child in her middle school, the girl who was so impossibly different in background, status, and personality. But there was just _something_ about Manee that made things certain. One was either worth Manee's time, or one wasn't, and Sira knew Manee had decided within minutes of their first meeting that the jumpy, anxious rich girl was worth her time. Manee simply accepted Sira for what she was, no strings attached, no expectations. And it was around Manee that Sira felt comfortable, at peace.

Her parents, of course, were right to be concerned about Sira's choice of friends, but they found little reason to be very alarmed at first. Regardless of Manee's background or her status as a delinquent, she was someone their daughter felt comfortable around, so _some_ prayer of thanks were in order. But what had started out as an endearing friendship soon developed into something _else_, sparking a good deal of controversy, which erupted into complete outrage when Sira dropped the bombshell after graduating from high school that she would be enlisting alongside Manee into the military. Threats were made, objects were smashed, and phone calls exchanged, but, in the end, Sira, as a legal adult, retained the right to decide what to do with her future.

Someone of Sira's status would've had parents to ensure that their child was put on a fast-track for promotion within the ranks of the military, and she had the grades to apply for officer candidate school. This, of course, was out of the question, with her parents unwilling to have anything to do with this fiasco and her insistence that she stay beside Manee, who did not have the educational credentials to enroll in OCS. She struggled with the rest of them in their quest to join the 2nd Airborne Battalion, and she struggled with her own demons in the form of her anxiety disorder, but she never struggled alone; Manee was always there.

There were those who wondered how such a timid, mentally unbalanced girl could possibly make a good paratrooper, who could possibly make a good _soldier_, especially when bullets were flying and explosions were detonating all around. But they easily forgot the creed of a paratrooper: They're always surrounded. They're always cornered.

And the more cornered a fox was, the more terrified it was, the harder they fought. And Sira was _deadly_. She was a natural at being cautious, being alert, being aware, being stealthy. And the harder the fight was, the harder she fought. She was one of the best riflewomen and scouts the 2nd Airborne Battalion had to offer.

And here, in Operation: ALAISIAGAE, she was surrounded.

Just the way it should be.

* * *

It would be another fifteen minutes before the battle itself started proper – Foxtrot Company disagreed, but the operational staff considered the actual battle to start with the rest of the army began combat operations in Nabil City – yet already the sight and sounds of battle and firepower was already beginning to become overwhelming A great spiderweb coated the sky, a crisscross of motes of light from the thrusters of planes and missiles and their contrails, black smoke rising from the ground marking where ordinance or wreckages had hit the ground. Bright tracers from anti-aircraft guns, outdated but still serviceable, also lit the sky along with equally outdated but still serviceable flak guns, setting off dark fireworks. Great, muffled, echoing thumps betrayed the firing of artillery pieces in the distance, but Manee couldn't tell if they were theirs or the enemy's. Given the situation, most likely they were both; they _had_ been briefed that artillery and rocket support would be available.

Manee had mixed feelings about actually _needing_ that fire support. It would be nice if the Valentine positions here were just extremely underwhelming and they wouldn't see much in terms of targets of opportunity, but she knew that was wishful thinking, and – on that vein – she personally hoped there would be _more_ she and Sira would run into. They could handle it, and every target of opportunity they take out was one less worry for the rest of Foxtrot and the main force from Army Group Three.

Although they kept to the rear of the line of hangars, away from the main hangar doors and along the inner perimeter of the airport, Manee and Sira stopped and ducked into cover at the sight of a rear door for personnel left slightly ajar; the lights were on inside, trickling out alongside muffled sounds of commotion through the gap in the door.. Stacking against the side of the door, Manee checked her weapon again while Sira, the team's lead rifleman and scout, took a careful peek through the gap, surveying and reconnoitering the situation before murmuring to Manee, "Six hostiles, four by the plane to the left; I think it's flight-and-prep crew. Two circling interior perimeter handling security."

Manee processed that information, though about it. A flight crew and their support stuff would probably be merely pilots and engineers, very lightly armed and inexperienced in response to a firefight. They'd probably also be clustered together, making them easy pickings. The riflemen patrolling the area, however, would probably be harder, but Manee and Sira had the element of surprise. Sira was probably better equipped in handling fast-shooting. "I have the flight crew," Manee whispered. "Pick off the two circling riflemen as quickly as you can."

Except loud – _very_ loud – automatic gunfire, combined with shouting and screaming, suddenly erupted from within the hangar. Manee swore and Sira flinched as both of them automatically risked a peek inside to see what was happening, only to see several Valentine bodies hitting the ground, three survivors – two of the flight crew and one rifleman – trying to duck for cover. From the hangar doors, a set of machine gun tracers was flowing in, one every ten rounds to help the machine gunner adjust aim, but Manee could barely make out the sound of an assault rifle – a _Gerudo_ assault rifle – mixed in that gunfire. There were at least two of theirs on the other side.

Another one of the flight crew caught a bullet to the chest just as her partner and the surviving rifleman ducked behind low barriers to avoid the spray of bullets coming from the machine gun…just as Manee swung the door open, going high as Sira went low. A triplet of bullets from the assault rifles in two different directions, and the remaining two Valentine soldiers, who had not seen the two in the rear and did not have cover against them, found their corpses in the middle of welling pools of their own blood.

Taking a moment to ensure that everyone inside the hangar was either dead or combat-incapable, Manee finally called out into the hangar to the other side, hoping they could hear her at the main hangar doors. "Friendlies, friendlies!"

"Two coming out, check fire!" came the reply from the other side.

In unison, two Gerudo paratroopers appeared from the main hangar doors as Manee and Sira approached from the rear, their weapons ready and quickly giving the area a final sweep, ensuring they were in the clear. The hangar was clean – at least, after they shot several of the bodies once again in the head to ensure they couldn't just pick up a pistol and start shooting from where they lay – but it didn't mean more enemy reinforcements and firepower wouldn't be on its way. "Cover, now!" Manee ordered, and the four quickly ducked behind a concrete barrier to the side of the hangar's interior.

"Thanks for the flanking fire, ma'am," the machine gunner gasped just as the four of them quickly regrouped to catch their breath. "Private Second Class Jennifer, Kukri Three-Two."

"Corporal Manee," the team leader replied curtly, realizing she couldn't match the faces of these two paratroopers to name – to be fair, Foxtrot was a fairly large _and_ new company – then gestured towards the riflewoman who kept watch over concrete barrier to ensure they weren't going to be ambushed. "Private First Class Sira, Kukri Two-Two."

"Private First Class Aki, Sickle Two-Five," the last one, a riflewoman, identified herself.

"Where's the rest of your fireteams?" asked Manee, despite moreorless already knowing the answer.

Shrugging, Jennifer drawled, "Hell like I know."

"We're dropped all over the place, ma'am," Aki replied more eloquently. "I saw some of us miss the airport entirely."

Manee made a face. "Figures. Alright, we drop back to whoever we have into hunt-and-kill mode until we can regroup and re-establish a chain of command." She turned back to Aki, noting her machine gun for a second time. "Are you fire for Kukri Three-Two?"

"No, ma'am, I'm assist and radio."

That arched an eyebrow; Manee was not sure why an assistant automatic riflewoman – who supported the automatic riflewoman, the actual person with the machine gun, by carrying ammunition – was carrying a machine gun herself. That said, she didn't mind it that much either; it meant they had a heavy automatic weapon on their side now, and Manee would count that as a blessing. She turned to Aki, asked, "You?"

"Team leader of Sickle Two-Five, ma'am."

That meant Jennifer probably had a bit more experience with the machine gun than Aki anyways. "You're fire until we can hook you up with the rest of your fireteam," Manee nodded to Jennifer, then Aki. "Give your ammo and radio to Aki; you're assist."

"Ma'am," the two responded in unison, immediately beginning to change equipment.

"Get Nadleeh on the horn. I want a SITREP and orders yesterday. Everyone back on me and out the rear."

The temporarily-reorganized Kukri Two-Two quickly filed back the way Manee and Sira came from, the latter moving ahead first as point-woman, Jennifer following after for machine gun cover, and Manee covering their rear as Aki reconfigured the radio to patch them to battalion headquarters. Back into the night they went, continuing in their path towards the airport, covering their vectors, ensuring no one was going to creep up on them from the sides.

"Nadleeh deems that enough of our girls have landed on the airport proper," Aki piped up quietly after tucking her radio back with her equipment. "We're to take out any high-value targets or targets of opportunity nearby and engage in perimeter mop-up operations."

"I've got a pretty good idea of where to start," Jennifer quipped and pointed up towards the sky at what looked like a thin column of white smoke rising into the sky.

No, not rising into the sky. As Manee squinted, she realized that it was, in fact, exhaust from a missile, looking like it had been launched from right in front of a hangar five buildings in front. Fairly close, and definitely a major threat to air assets above. "Mobile SAMs," Manee murmured, quickly waving the fireteam to cover, and they swiftly ducked into the alley between hangars on the right. "Sira, check it out. Jennifer, cover."

Sira nodded, kept low as she maneuvered out of the alley, sticking close to the rear walls of the next hangar, moving forward. From behind, Jennifer kept her machine gun ready, aimed just left of Sira, preparing to fire upon any threats coming from the fore. After navigating the length of the hangar's rear, Sira proceeded to disappear into the next alleyway, undoubtedly to scout ahead and sneak towards the other side, moving back towards the runways and the front of the line of hangars; Jennifer followed, stopping just at the next alley's entrance to provide rear cover. Both of them re-emerged from the alleyway approximately thirty seconds later, carefully retracing their steps, their demeanors indicating that they had not been detected.

"They've front and back covered," Sira whispered as soon as she and Jennifer quickly rejoined the fireteam in the refuge of their alleyway. "There were about seven or eight hostile infantry on the outside all around, maybe more inside. I don't think we can sneak up on them."

Taking a moment to contemplate their options, Manee eventually shrugged in resignation. "We aren't carrying anti-armor anyways." It didn't mean that they were just going to sit here on their hands, though; something had to be done, even if they were outnumbered. "Aki, call in an airstrike, Wild Weasel priority."

Aki nodded, quickly pulled out her radio again, hailed battalion headquarters while the rest of the fireteam moved down the alley towards the runways, ensuring that they'd get a good view of the mobile SAMs up front. "Nadleeh, Nadleeh, this is Kukri…" Aki trailed off, suddenly realizing that she did not remember which fireteam her current team leader belonged to. Manee, noting that her radiowoman had suddenly stopped speaking, quickly turned around to give her two fingers twice, which served as a sufficient reminder as Aku quickly caught on, continued into the radio, "Kukri Two-Two, repeat, Kukri Two-Two. Requesting immediate Wild Weasel airstrike on SEAD targets at grid two-five-two one-seven-one. Targets are mobile SAM sites. Be advised, Kukri Two-Two is danger close, repeat, danger close. How copy? Over."

Wild Weasel was the designation for any aircraft purposed for a SEAD mission, suppression of enemy air defenses. Its purpose was to destroy any surface-based anti-aircraft targets, ranging from anti-air guns to surface-to-air missile launchers to radar sites, in a high-speed game of cat-and-mouse; pilots had to deliberately allow the enemy to track them, thereby making themselves very much vulnerably to anti-aircraft weapons, so that the aircraft could fire back at enemy anti-air installations. It was another reason why the airborne was on the ground, to minimize risks for the Gerudo Wild Weasel aircrafts; ground forces designating targets on the ground using infrared strobes would save allied pilots the trouble of getting the enemy to acquire a radar lock on them. It was a cooperation that not only saved time, but possibly lives as well; it certainly meant less bullets and missiles after Gerudo planes.

"Solid copy, Kukri Two-Two," came the voice of one of the communications officers of battalion headquarters, acting as an informational relay and sub-commanding officer to the rest of the brass directing the 2nd Airborne Battalion, which, in turn, had a line of communications to Army Group Three Headquarters, designated as. "Relaying coordinates to Wild Weasel Esper One-One. Strobe and mark targets if possible. Standby for airstrike, out."

* * *

The desert bred tough women. Say what one would of the technologies of the Hylian military or the professionalism of the Valentine military; the military of Gerudo boasted pragmatism.

The foremothers of the Gerudo people had traditionally been nomadic warriors, bandits, and pirates, noble criminals who survived tyrannical regional lords of folk tales and the very real elements. It was a country where even the civilian populace was ready to accept unexpected rationings of food and water, a country where the ancient population still managed to survive in the desert without the modern wonders of greenhouses and hydroponics. Its society was one without a gender divide, and the women were just as tough – if not tougher – than the men beyond their borders.

The desert did not allow the Gerudo to be picky, and they have always accepted whatever they got. Their lot was not to complain or despair, but to survive or die. And survive they did, utilizing the greatest degree of discipline to conserve water, to maintain cool, to resist the elements. They endured arid droughts and scorching sunlight, freezing nights and chaotic sandstorms.

The times have changed much of Gerudo. Its fortunes had turned around, and what used to be a struggling cluster of desert tribes had become a major continental power. But some things did not change with time. Pragmatism was one of them.

It didn't matter to Manee or Sira – or any of the paratroopers that had been scattered all across Nabil City Airport – that they had been greatly separated from the designated members of their fireteams, that they had been dropped in the middle of enemy formations with little chance of coordination. Everyone made do, coordinating with whoever was nearby, reassembling themselves into new fireteams as if the newcomers had always been there to begin with.

Perhaps it had to do with the nature of Gerudo's military, the great emphasis on conventional warfare, the ability of every Gerudo infantrywoman to be able to be a riflewoman, a machine gunner, a sniper, an artillery crew member, a radiowoman. Ultimately, the result was the same: It took only ten seconds for Manee and every other Gerudo fireteam leader in Nabil City to rearrange the roster of their fireteams, and then they were off with ruthless efficiency to combat the enemy. They had a riflewoman-scout, a team leader, a machine gunner, and a radiowoman, everything they needed to fight battles, call in airstrikes, reconnoiter targets, win wars.

There was order in chaos. Gerudo reveled in it.

* * *

"Ordinance on its way, ma'am," Aki reported even as she swapped her radio for an infrared designator; the device, shaped almost like a portable music player, used infrared technology to focus a narrow beam of light onto a target like an invisible laser pointer. Shining the beam towards the mobile SAMs – they looked like small IFVs with large missile launch tubes – it made contact with the armor's surface, generating an infrared source that allowed for their aircraft to achieve radar lock onto the signature and launch an infrared homing missile – or, alternatively, for SEAD operations, an anti-radiation missile to track radar signatures, increasing the accuracy in which enemy anti-air assets were destroyed – towards the target.

"When the missiles hit, we make a break for it," Manee instructed, deciding that they were going to use the explosion and shockwave from the missile as a diversion. One _hell_ of a diversion, in fact; the missile would specifically target the mobile SAMs, but the explosion would likely be large enough to kill most or all of the soldiers to the front of the hangar, maybe even a few within. "Close in, mop up. Remember: The blast is going to disorientate the enemy, but lying on the ground _could_ mean knocked dizzy, not _dead_." The corporal tapped her temple once for emphasis. "One in the head each to make sure."

The three subordinates nodded in unison. Manee was _not_ having any casualties on her team because some half-dead Valentine soldier – bleeding to death on the ground – made a half-assed, last-ditch attempt to kill one of her own. That was just embarrassing.

The rumbling of an incoming fighter jet – its engines sounded like distant thunder – caught Kukri Two-Two's attention, largely because the sound stood out even above everything else possible: Other fighter jets flying around in the sky, constant gunfire erupting all over the airport, shots and bursts from flak cannons and their ordinance, SAMs and AAMs streaking through the air and exploding as they found their targets, distant artillery shots and not-so-distant impacts of their shells. In fact, now that Manee thought about it, she wondered how she even managed to hear that incoming fighter. At the moment, she didn't think too much about it, a decision she would regret moments later.

A sudden streak of gray steel, complete with the sound of metallic crunching, was the cue Manee needed to get her fireteam moving. "Go, go, go!" she shouted, and Kukri Two-Two quickly emerged from the alley, sprinting forward at full speed to get to the next alley for cover.

As they moved in, however, they noticed two immediate problems. First, the expected air-to-ground missile had not actually hit the mobile SAMs. In fact, it was more accurate to say that the missile had never been launched, which was the source of the second problem: The object that had crashed into the ground was not, in fact, a missile, but a burning fighter jet…with its fuselage on fire.

"_Shit_!" howled Jennifer even as Manee screamed at Kukri Two-Two to duck into the nearest alley between hangars, and just in time; from one hangar away, the remains of a Gerudo fighter jet detonated into a shockwave of dust and flames, overwhelming their senses, rippling the air with a massive heat wave that would've incinerated Kukri Two-Two had they not ducked into the alley and behind a hangar wall in time.

Manee furiously uttered a particularly long and creative string of profanities in her native dialect. Aki merely stared, Jennifer would've looked amused had she not been busy recovering from the explosion, while Sira – with whom Manee shared a hometown – blushed furiously and looked shyly away.

"I don't think that was the airstrike," Jennifer muttered the obvious.

"I know!" scowled Manee.

"I think our bird got shot down."

"_I know_!"

The explosion had temporarily created a smokescreen that obscured everything in the area. That worked out to their advantage, Manee knew; the Valentine soldiers around the hangars where the mobile SAMs were located definitely saw their charge earlier, and would eventually close in with overwhelming numbers. The smoke was a good way for the smaller group to fight for a few seconds, fall back, and regroup, find some way to even out the odds.

One thing was for sure: They weren't about to take on twenty-five-plus trained enemy Valentine infantrymen with just four of them. "Get more ordinance on these bastards, _fast_!" ordered Manee even as the fireteam began to move backwards, gaining some distance between themselves and the Valentine soldiers in front. Already, the enemy was firing back, the occasional tracer appearing through the smoke. They were firing blindly, hoping to hit someone concealed within the smoke or keep them suppressed, but that meant someone could get lucky and one of Kukri Two-Two's. Manee kept having to push Aki back even as the latter fumbled with the radio, Sira and Jennifer returning fire through the smoke, trying to target the strobes of light from Valentine automatic rifles, sidestepping every now and they fired in bursts, knowing that they had to throw off the aim of the Valentine opposition that would be keeping track of the flashes from Gerudo weapons as well.

"Nadleeh, Kukri Two-Two," Aki was saying frantically into the radio. "Esper One-One is down. Target area is hot. Repeat, target area is still hot. Request additional ordinance on target."

"Kukri Two-Two, this is Nadleeh. We cannot afford to send more air support your way at this time. Relaying you to rear artillery battery, designation November-India. Standby for relay."

Turning to the rest of the team, Jennifer called out above the deafening sounds of gunfire, "We're getting artillery support!"

Tracers from the right joined in on the firefight, and shortly afterwards, the firefight entered a triangle, bullets flying in different directions. Squinting, Manee looked to the right towards the runways, towards the source of the new sources of incoming fire, spotted the silhouettes of feminine figures lying prone on the ground, firing towards the hangar occupied by Valentine forces. "Friendlies on the right!" the corporal shouted even as she patted both Sira and Jennifer on the shoulders, making sure that they wouldn't mistake the new source of gunfire for the enemy. "Friendlies on the right! Check fire!"

Another fireteam right of their position, giving them flanking fire; Manee counted four paratroopers. That still meant they were outnumbered three-to-one, but that was better than six-to-one. The paratroopers looked precariously exposed to fire, having no cover out in the runways. Still, it was probably the best course of action in their situation: They were prone on the ground without the benefit of smoke cover; even if Manee somehow got in contact with those paratroopers and had them make a dash for the cover offered by the hangars, it still meant they had to sprint through nearly fifty meters of open ground with no cover or concealment, making them easy pickings. They were probably better off where they were for now, at least until they could thin out Valentine resistance.

Aki's radio crackled, courtesy Nadleeh patching in the rear artillery batteries. "Kukri Two-Two, this is November-India, adjust fire, out."

"November-India, adjust fire!" With Manee, Sira, and Jennifer firing their weapons into the Valentine positions – and the enemy firing right back – Aki practically needed to scream to be sure that she could be heard over the radio. "Target at grid two-five-two one-seven-one! Target is…target is two enemy aircraft hangars and twenty-five-plus infantry behind cover! How copy? Over."

"Two hangars and twenty-five-plus infantry behind cover at grid two-five-two one-seven-one, solid copy. Fire mission in effect, ten rounds, out."

The first few rounds that an artillery battery fired were "test shots", a small amount of ordinance sent on its arc trajectory to hit a target kilometers away. Judging on where the artillery shells landed, a forward observer – in this case, Kukri Two-Two – could have the artillery cannons to adjust their aim – hence the term "adjust fire" – by reporting how far off the rounds landed. Once the forward observer confirmed that the artillery battery's aim was spot on, she could then have the artillery battery to "fire for effect", the necessary amount of firepower and ordinance to achieve the desired effect on the target for their fire mission.

A deafening crack, louder than even the other shots that were being fired to and fro, resounded through the airfield, causing Sira and Jennifer to flinch. Manee scowled, immediately ducking back into cover just as she had to change the magazine on her assault rifle. She recognized that report, the particular sound a certain gun made. "I just heard a sniper!" Jennifer shouted. "Does anybody have a fix?"

Another crack, but the lack of a whizzing sound indicated that the shot didn't even come close, most unusual for a weapon meant for precision firing. Manee, however, quickly figured out the reason why, swiveling her head to the right to sneak in a quick glance at the supporting fireteam on their right flank; only three weapons were firing now from the runway, the fourth having a mess for a head that looked like the top half had been blown clean off. "Shit!" Manee spat. "Bastard's picking us off one by one!" She fired back in the general direction of the shooter – she judged by the sound and flash of the gunshot that the sniper was hidden within the smoke and tracking the strobes from Gerudo weapson – but knew that she was probably only providing weak suppression fire.

The next shot came too close for comfort, blasting part of the corner of the hangar where Kukri Two-Two was taking cover behind away; fragments of concrete and steel flew into the air, cutting across Jennifer's cheek as pieces of tiny shrapnel grazed her skin, drew blood. "_Shit_!" screamed the private second class as she inadvertently ducked back behind cover, reached for her cheek, saw blood stained on her gloves. "_Can anybody bloody see the goddamned sniper_?"

For just a few seconds, Sira's gun suddenly went silent as she calmly bent down on a knee, deliberately holding her assault rifle to her shoulder as she took a deep breath, calmly looked through the optical scope attached to her assault rifle. "I got him," she whispered just a moment later – Manee didn't see how that was even possible, not with all the dust and smoke everywhere – and, in an instant, Sira fired the assault rifle twice before ducking back behind cover, taking deep, ragged, nervous breaths as she did so. And as Jennifer picked up a slack by pouring another wave of machine gun bullets into the fray, Manee noticed that she couldn't hear the sounds of sniper fire anymore.

That was no guarantee that Sira had actually killed the sniper; after all, he could've merely been repositioning. _No_, Manee quietly reprimanded herself. _I need to have more faith in my men. Sira pulled off that shot. I need to believe that._

"Shot, over," came the familiar voice of November-India over the radio.

"Shot, out," replied Aki before she turned to the rest of Kukri Two-Two, hollered, "Guns have fired!" An artillery cannon lobbed large explosive shells into the air so it could eventually come down with tremendous force after having traveled kilometers across a battlefield to its target. It would be several seconds before the artillery shells actually came down, but it was generally a good idea to inform the rest of the fireteam that there were ten explosive shells capable of creating ten-meter craters on their way towards their general direction.

In general, Manee wasn't too worried about the possibility the enemy could also call in air support or artillery strikes. It was the kind of defensive mentality that was ingrained into the mind of every combatant; it was alright to call in heavy ordinance if one was attacking a combat area or if the attackers were still outside the combat perimeters, but defenders generally had the impression that calling in artillery strikes on an enemy that was already _inside_ their perimeter would effectively be killing the infrastructure they were already using, something they wanted to avoid at all costs. Granted, Manee admitted it didn't lower their chances of being hit by really nasty explosions down to zero, but it was a good gamble…not that she had a choice in the matter. They were soldiers. Their lot was to fight and die.

A staccato of assault rifle rounds came close to the cover Kukri Two-Two hide behind once more; the bullets went low, streaking right beside where Jennifer had set up her machine gun against the ground. The machine gunner swore in her ancestral dialect – even to Manee, who couldn't understand the private second class' native tongue, it _sounded_ pretty vulgar – as she involuntarily flinched backwards, hiding deeper into the alley, a completely human reflex. Scowling, Jennifer peered right back out of cover to fire back at the Valentine opposition…

…And got a bullet to her chest for the trouble, the round traveling with another force to send a great spray of blood bursting through her back as the bullet exited her body. Jennifer's limp body dropped to the ground, the barrel of her machine gun flashing thrice as spasms overtook her fingers and squeezed the trigger for a second before falling silent.

"Jennifer's hit!" Sira cried out, was beginning drop down to drag Jennifer behind the hangar and further into the alley, but Manee's spare arm caught the riflewoman by the armpit, kept her steady, prevented her from bending down.

"Shit!" Manee swore, saw Sira begin to drop down to drag Jennifer behind the hangar and further into the alley. Quickly, the fireteam leader's spare hand caught the riflewoman by the armpit, kept her upright and steady, prevented her from bending down to pick up Jennifer. "Keep shooting!" ordered Manee. "I got her!"

The radio crackled just as November-India quickly warned. "Splash, over."

"Splash, out," Aki replied hurriedly, knowing that the code "splash" meant that the artillery teams calculated just five seconds before the artillery shells would _hopefully_ hit their target…which was certainly an incentive for everyone to get the hell down, a message she conveyed to the rest of the fireteam as she hollered, "Everybody take cover!"

Kukri Two-Two immediately took cover behind the hangar walls again and pressed against it, knowing that a miss from the artillery shells could be very disastrous when they themselves weren't very far from the target area. Manee counted five seconds just after Aki had said "splash"…and, right on cue, massive explosions rocked the airfield's runways as ten howitzer shells – a solid amalgamation of metal and high explosives the size of two footballs – struck the airfield and created great craters in the ground…but not in the area Kukri Two-Two wanted them to land. "They're hitting too far to the right!" Manee howled, her attempts to resuscitate a pale and unmoving Jennifer temporarily postponed by this new development. She was especially concerned by how close the ten artillery shells had crashed to the _other_ Gerudo fireteam still pinned down flat on the runway, still desperately firing back to create overlapping fields of fire with Kukri Two-Two against Valentine forces, but even now enemy activity still seemed high through the fading smoke and dust, and Manee realized she had little idea how many of the enemy were even left. They certainly were still outnumbered, though.

Aki didn't need to be told twice, and was immediately back onto the radio, frantically coordinating with the artillery battery. "November-India, Kukri Two-Two. Adjust fire: Direction one thousand, add fifty, left fifty, over."

"Direction one thousand, add fifty, left fifty, out," confirmed November-India, then, after several seconds, added unexpectedly quickly. "Shot, over."

"Shot, out."

The radiowoman was about to tell her team leader about the artillery guns having fired, but Manee was clearly more concerned about something else as she frantically waved her spare arm high in the air, making warding and get-down motions in the distance. "_No_!" Manee screamed, and Aki saw immediately what was happening: The fireteam to the right – likely being worried that they were being zeroed-in by enemy artillery – were getting up from the ground and attempting to run towards them for cover. "Get down! _Get down_!"

It was a bad decision on the fireteam's part. Their initial attempt at avoiding fire was good enough, given the circumstances; they presented the smallest target area to the enemy by remaining prone on the runway where there was nothing to hide behind. But the fireteam had also mistaken the artillery fire for that of the enemy – chaos had a thing about blinding people in hectic moments – and was attempting to get to cover where the artillery would be less effective. Three targets attempting to sprint fifty meters across open tarmac while carrying kilograms of heavy gear were easily pickings for the Valentine infantrymen who opened fire on these completely unprotected targets. In an attempt to attract fire, give those paratroopers a chance, Manee quickly jumped out from cover, made a point of holding down her trigger on fully automatic, spraying as much bullets towards the Valentine-held hangar in front of them – the idea was that this was either suppression fire or giving the enemy a more obvious target through the smoke – but it was too late; one by one, Valentine rifles shifted their fire to easier targets, and, within a matter of seconds, all three Gerudo paratroopers had hit the ground, dead.

"_Shit_!" Manee violently exhaled through clenched teeth as she quickly returned to cover, her self-sacrificial actions no longer to anyone's benefit, then – as she pressed up against the wall again – thrashed once to articulate her rage. "Goddamned _idiots_!"

Aki, on the other hand, was busier with other issues. "Splash, out!" she called out, just three seconds before all remaining survivors of Kukri Two-Two heard the shriek of incoming artillery shells hurtling through the sky. They were going to be close. And just as the fireteam quickly sought cover back in the alley, rapid detonations assaulted their eardrums, shook the very air around them. It even _felt_ like a direct hit.

Peering around the corner in time to catch the sight of the last few artillery shells combust into explosions of smoke and dust – no fire, for the artillery shells were not using any incendiary material – Sira called out, "That's a hit!" Already, parts of the target hangar had collapsed, the artillery shells punching significant holes and gashes into the wall and – where none of Kukri Two-Two could see – the roof. An explosion had also violently tossed one of the mobile SAMs onto its side, the lightly-armored vehicle skidding across the ground before coming to a halt. It wasn't wrecked, but it probably wasn't going to be shooting anymore SAMs anytime soon.

Now that the first few "test rounds" were confirmed to be on target – an indication that the artillery guns had acquired a good aim on the hangar – it was time to bring in the full barrage. "Fire for effect," said Aki over the radio. "Repeat, fire for effect. Level the target area."

"Copy, guns firing for effect, out."

The artillery guns would fire as many times as necessary until the target was destroyed, or until the forward observer or the artillery commander decided their tactics weren't working and required a different approach. Either way, it still meant a whole lot more artillery shells were coming their way, and although Kukri Two-Two was already fifty meters away from the hangar, Manee decided they were going to need quite a bit more distance. She didn't care how accurate modern artillery guns were now; any weapon shooting at a target kilometers away with a trajectory akin to an underhand toss deserves respect towards its error margin. "Let's go, let's go!" Manee shouted, tapping both Sira and Aki on the shoulder, getting them to slowly cover each other with suppressing fire and move back to a safer distance. "We've got to move out of the kill zone!"

As and Manee were already providing covering fire, it would've been Aki who would have to withdraw first, but she didn't move from where she had knelt on the ground, and Manee soon found out why. Scowling, her spare arm looped right under Aki's arm, pulled her up despite the private's struggling.

"Leave her!" snapped the fireteam leader, holding onto Aki tightly, preventing her from kneeling back down in a futile attempt to revive the corpse of their fallen machine gunner. "She's gone!" But the assistant automatic rifleman wouldn't relent, struggling against her superior's grip, still attempting to save someone who couldn't be saved, so Manee had to pull her back even harder, pin Aki against the wall with a forearm, screamed in her face, "_Goddammit_, she's _gone_, Aki! _We're _still alive, and we've got artillery shells _coming out bloody way_! Now pull back! Take Jennifer's machine gun and go! _Now_!"

Aki spared another conflicted glance towards the dead Jennifer on the ground, but finally relented. When Manee finally released her grip on the private before turning around the corner again to fire on enemy soldiers also firing from cover, Aki quickly scooped up Jennifer's weapon and made a break in the other direction, relying on the other two to provide cover fire, made for the next alley between hangars. Manee, meanwhile, noted that Sira had successfully shot and killed another two Valentine infantrymen…which was both good and bad. It was good that they had taken down more of the enemy, but the reason for it was bad: The dust from the jet fuselage explosion was beginning to die down, and all the smoke that wasn't going up as a black pillar was dissipating around them, rendering the area highly visible once more. Pulling back was going to be difficult under these conditions.

"Sira!" Manee patted her riflewoman on the shoulder, pulled at it for extra emphasis. "You're next! Go, go, _go_!" And, immediately, after Sira fired a few more rounds towards the enemy, forcing a few adventurous Valentine infantrymen into ducking back into cover, Sira quickly began to jog backwards, withdrawing while keeping the pressure from the enemy. From behind, Aki had temporarily put down the extra ammunition for the machine gun she had been carrying, was prone on the ground and firing a stream of bullets towards the target hangar, an excellent way to keep Valentine forces from poking their heads out to take potshots at Kukri Two-Two.

A few of the enemy were smart, already fleeing – or withdrawing, one would say – at full speed towards the empty hangars further down the line, closer to the airport. Undoubtedly, they had realized that the first few artillery shots were a prelude to the carnage that would soon devastate the building they were taking refuge in. The remaining enemies were engaged in a fight withdrawal, hoping they could take down a few Gerudo paratroopers as they pulled back out of the target area for the artillery strike…

…but they were too late. Another series of shrieks, and the artillery strikes came down with unrelenting force. Manee – who realized she had been busy covering Sira's withdrawal and was still dangerously close to the target area – quickly began to backpedal, but she watched as one artillery shell after the next crashed violently against the ground, the kinetic force of impact plus the explosion triggered the moment after creating great explosions that threw bodies and scrap metal into the air, punched holes into the hangar foundations, twisted their walls. It looked rather like someone was taking a hammer and knocking the hell out of a model house made out of cardboard.

Finally, after nearly fifteen seconds of sustained shelling, the hangar – rattled, shaken, and torn apart by the constant bombardment – finally gave away, the sad remainder of scrap metal collapsing and crashing to the ground, sending a great gust blowing in all directions with all the smoke and dust. The shockwave alone was enough to cause a chain reaction, and the hangar next to it, having also been irreparably damaged by the artillery shells that had been dropping too close, joined the one beside it, crumpling to the ground with the groan of twisting metal before it ended with a crash. Even from behind cover, Sira felt as if there was some finality to that simple sight. Even the sounds of gunfire from their target hangar – what remained of it – had fallen completely silent.

"November-India, Kukri Two-Two," Aki spoke into the radio; now that the sounds of nearby gunfire had died, she could speak at a relatively normal volume, and there was an edge of somberness to it. "Good effect on target. End of mission: Two hangars destroyed, estimate twenty-plus casualties, over."

"November-India copies all, Kukri Two-Two. Relaying to Nadleeh. Good hunting."

Manee took a deep breath, exhaled, got her adrenaline under control. Eight Gerudo paratroopers managed to take out twenty-plus Valentine infantrymen with only five casualties. All in all, that wasn't so bad…but they needed to move on. "Come on," Manee muttered to Sira and Aki, even as the distant rumble of vehicles and additional gunfire gave away the presence of the rest of Army Group Three beginning the assault proper on Nabil City. "We've got to keep pushing. Artillery priority will be given to the main attack now, so we've got to move fast. Let's go."

* * *

Author's Note: Yes, again.

This omake – for those who aren't familiar with anime/manga-speak, an "omake" is basically extra or supplementary material added onto a main work – was written to serve two purposes. The first is to remind everyone that, despite the fact that most of the story follows Link in his stealth operations in which he navigates the war-torn continent where the fighting has already stopped with little support, there _is_ a massive war going on that is being fought by the everyman and the everywoman, officers and soldiers killing each other across the continent. The second is that this is an attempt to write something a bit different for the sake of circumventing my writer's block. Chapter Seventeen turned out to be extraordinarily difficult to finish, and I decided I needed a little practice in the form of a game-changer, something a bit different from what I've been writing lately, to help me with that.

Although I did some research, I will first say that I am not, by any means, a military specialist. My resources were video games and Wikipedia, and there are bound to be certain things regarding the military sciences that I got wrong. There were also certain things that I _did_ research, but abridged and shortened for the sake of length of text and reader familiarity with military language in video games; I'm sure that someone who has served in the military and who has called an artillery strike – real or simulated – probably knows that there are quite a few more codes exchanged between the forward observer and the artillery battery to get the big guns on a target, or that some of the codes and languages I used were taken not from real military-lingo, but from games like _Modern Warfare 2_.

It was only supposed to be for practice, but I find myself actually quite liking Manee and Sira. I don't know what's going to happen down the line, but the two of them may show up again in the future, especially if reader reaction towards them are positive. In the meantime, I have to struggle with the fact that there are, once again, many fanfiction ideas swimming in my head once more; I have significant ideas the franchises _Dragon Age_, _Fire Emblem_, _Gunslinger Girl_, and _Mass Effect_. (If you haven't played or seen one of those four franchises, I'd recommend at least giving it a look.) I _am_ curious, by the way; in case I truly to decide to do something stupid and attempt another fanfic, which of the above four mentioned franchises would you most want to see me write fanfiction on?

Now, without further delay, let's reply to some reviews.

Banjo2E: _Great job, as usual. Enjoying the build-up to part two, I do so enjoy these plot moments._

_With the amount of obvious foreshadowing coming from Link, Zelda, and company, not to mention the whole "jamming Zelda's entourage's chosen signal for the past week" and "narrative significance to Link and Ganondorf fighting" things, I'd be disappointed at this point if Ganondorf and MICO didn't turn out *not* to be the bad guys here. Please, for the love of Squadallah, subvert their (and our) expectations. (Yeah I know you're just going to sit there :3-ing like the best poker player in the world but I still want to put forth my opinion on this issue.)_

_Why didn't Morgan have predetermined identity codes? Isn't he the head of OLRER?_

_Do we know what Project TUNDRA is yet, or is that yet to come?_

_Also: "Water Temple" will be Link jumping between (surface) ships. Possibly on Epona. THOU ART THEE ART THOU GIVE LINK A FLYING ITEM IN THE WATER DUNGEON DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT_

Ganondorf, Emi, and MICO have their plans. In fact, it might be more accurate to say that Ganondorf, Emi, MICO, Defense Minister Sydney, and the Armed Defense Staff all share three _separate_ plans (although I won't say who is sharing which plan with whom). They have different interests here, and Hyrule just happens to be the key to those interests. You'll soon figure out _what_ they are, but I _do_ intend to resolve all these loose ends I'm leaving behind regarding what Gerudo is up to.

Morgan also had identity authentication codes, but it was more prudent for Zelda to give them first, considering that the major general was the one currently with something resembling a Hylian army. Furthermore, Zelda would've been skeptical either way had it not been for the joke about OLDER; as Valentine forces are occupying Hyrule City and the Haven, it is a very likely possibility that they have cracked all Hylian authentication codes. Therefore, she had actually considered the possibility that the "Hylian transmission" she was receiving _could_ have been a Valentine trap, as they could've stole Morgan's authentication code to fool Zelda. Therefore, the joke about OLDER was vital in ensuring that, at the very least, the person at the other end of the transmission had attended the military briefing all the way back in Chapter One.

Also, it's not Project TUNDRA, but Operation: TUNDRA, which is the operation that Emi had presented before the Armed Defense Staff and approved by Minister Sydney back at the very end of Chapter Fifteen. It encompasses all the little moves and deceptions that Emi had been implementing so far regarding the Hylian entourage. I've deliberately _not_ mentioned it by name in the story yet as to keep readers guessing. Its endgame will be revealed eventually, but I will go ahead and say this: The Operation: TUNDRA that Sydney and the Armed Defense Staff approved back in Chapter Fifteen is probably a very different operation from the real game Emi has in mind.

Spudforce: _Hmm...Could old Ganondorf be trying to lure Link to his table? I do have to wonder what the population numbers are for the respective countries if only one landmass on the entire planet is habitable. The resources for war seem limited if Valentine was only able to mobilize just over a million men. Hell that's the size of the US Army in peacetime!_

All three countries are individually significantly smaller than the United States. The continent itself isn't that large; it's actually smaller than North America.

CJL: _Great chapter as always, it's interesting to note that you've chosen a laser for the water 'boss'._

_I like lasers._

_Will the laser speed be instant? In that case Link won't have a chance (having to swim... you know...)._

_Or will it require some kind of capacitor system, and fire in short, but deadly bursts?_

_How fast does the head turn?_

_How will Link even get to it? His head will be squished flat by the water pressure :*(_

_NEXT MONTH ON LoZ: EXORIA - LINK VS JORMUNGAND. WHO WILL SURVIVE. TUNE IN NEXT TIME TO FIND OUT._

The laser will travel as fast as light travels underwater. You also mention some very good considerations, such as water pressure, but you'll have to trust me when I say I've thought of that already, and the way Link will take out Jormungand may not necessarily be in the way everyone may immediately expect.

The Pilot: _Many apologies for my tardiness in reviewing. As you can relate, University work and classes had me quite busy for the last two months. That said, it's time to be long-winded._

_(quote) "It was only seconds after Link had closed the doors behind him that Zelda broke eye contact from the doors, sighing as her gaze lazily swept across the floor in a melancholy manner, a hand coming up to support her chin even as she leaned against the sofa. It was clear that Link picked up on certain subtexts, but there may have been more to be desired. "Do you think he fully realizes that I just want him to feel the gratitude he deserves?" she murmured, her free gloved hand extending a finger to absentmindedly trail the wooden frame of the sofa she sat upon."(end quote) MAN, what I would give to see Link's reaction to THAT remark! It would have been PRICELESS! In all seriousness though, it is a very good teaser as to Zelda's feelings for Link, as it can be interpreted in so many different ways (definitely a good way to mess with the readers' minds, lol)._

_Next, on the part where the Hylian naval vessels were attacked, I must say that the nature of the attack was quite surprising, but exceptionally logical in retrospect, that Jormungand would be some kind of energy/laser type of weapon. Now, when the submerged submarine was melted, I was going to state that the water would scatter any type of laser/energy beam, due to its reflection/refraction abilities, but then a thought ocurred to me: Could the weapon be so powerful that it instantly vaporized over one hundred ninty five THOUSAND cubic feet of seawater, as well as melting the submarine? _

_[My arriving at that amount of seawater was based on several assumptions: 1) A typical attack submarine is roughly 270 feet long, give or take 60 feet. Looking at it from one side, the height would be around 30 feet, and depth would be a diameter of approx. 60 feet. 2) Submarines of this size typically have three decks, so for the water to flood all decks simultaneously and sink the vessel almost instantly, I am guessing the hole would have to be at least fifteen feet tall, and ten feet wide, if not bigger. 3) A very low angle of attack is assumed, again assuming this is a sea-based weapon, so based on 100 meters of water directly over the sub, I estimated the beam traveled through 400 meters of water on that low angle, before hitting the sub broadside.]_

_Sorry to get so technical on that, but if I'm even in the neighborhood of being accurate, that is power on a whole new level. But remembering the Hylian intelligence briefing of chapter two, I'd say I'm in the neighborhood. Nice work on this, btw! It's an achievement getting me interested to the point of estimation calculations like that - something that most stories can't do._

_Ah, and now we come to the new political intrigue - spies and turncoats. I won't go into much detail (since I've already turned this into a novel, *lol*), but I will say that this is extremely well-thought out and written. It further explores the various factions of Gerudo, and allows the reader to experience the various underlying conflicts of the society, while still remaining focused on the main events. _

_Needless to say, Emi is up to something that probably isn't good, and poor Jessica looks like she's the fall-guy. But I hope that she survives whatever her assignment is. It is highly entertaining when she and Link are paired together in any situation._

_Well, I better stop there, but again, I commend you on another masterfully-written chapter. I look forward to reading and reviewing the next one possible tomorrow. *gives another Missileboat flyby salute*_

I have very definite interpretations as to how the feelings between Link and Zelda work in _Exoria_. It's a bit too early to say, but all I can say is that the chemistry is there, but it's also ambiguous, and whether or not it'll develop into anything…well, everyone should know by now that I like to tease. Also, the entirety of Jormungand did not melt during the aforementioned freak accident from so long ago, only part of it; the problem is that very critical components were damaged, and required almost a year to properly reconstruct. The freak accident occurred during an early test that was not very deep underwater, and I have not disclosed the size of Jormungand yet. The fear of something like this happening was why Valentine initially conscripted war criminals to test-drive Anansi, but Valentine R&D became overconfident after Anansi's success, and asked for volunteers instead. The current intrigue – the moves by Gerudo – has been planned out in advance, and I know exactly where this is headed. I have a suspicion that no one will figure out exactly what the endgame is by the time this is over (which will be explained when the Jormungand arc is over), so you'll just have to wait for a bit.

Ngandu the Croc: _First of all, well done on a decent transition chapter, setting the stage for your characters' next actions._

_Anyway, I of course see that the most major game changing event in this chapter was contacting General Morgan. This chapter was a good time to handle that situation, and is an especially satisfying when combined with the ever increasing worry of Zelda's entourage. But of course, nothing comes easy, and you have successfully made me worry about the princess' well being, as you so helpfully pointed out that they must avoid the best air force on the continent, within territory firmly in their control, with a flight crew from the continent's worst air force. Not to mention Emi and her 'orders' adding further tension to a trip that's already going to be nerve racking enough as it is._

_But of course, I wouldn't write off the skills of the Gerudo in any situation they find themselves in. Especially with Zelda involved. This setup has me looking forward to what you have in store next._

_I would also like to say that I enjoyed the look into Zelda's head, and reminded those of us who are focused too much on the queenly mask that she is still a young woman who has known grief, and moved beyond it for the sake of duty. This chapter was especially good for reinforcing Zelda's character, from the way she interacted with Impa, Leonore, and Durandara(especially humorous), to her excitement at the thought of finally contacting General Morgan, to her own reflection of the fate that placed her on the throne so early, and to her resolve in returning to Hyrule, "one way or another.". You have to be determined when so many things are going against you in your mission, even without taking into account the potential sabotage._

_I guess, even with all the little things and not so little things you sprinkled into the chapter, this was really Zelda's chapter. Even if Link is the Hero in this story, destined to fell monsters with his trusty blade, I've been glad to see that Zelda herself has been given her own focus within the story, with her own obstacles to face. You've done well in giving the two Hylians time to demonstrate their own unique perspectives on the situation and their roles in it. _

_And of course, Ganondorf and Link. Together. Not only do I look forward to seeing how Zelda manages through enemy airspace, but further interaction between Ganondorf and Link has me looking forward to the next chapter, especially as the generalissimo has demonstrated a certain knack for getting under Agent Link's skin. And of course, I want to know what he's up to._

_Also, I'm glad you cut the sword fight short in the earlier chapter. I do think you could pull it off well enough, but at that point it may have felt a little tacked on. Just the hint that they may be equal enough in combat to provide a good match later, if it comes to that, is satisfactory for fanservice purposes without being too blatant about it. It's really good to see you refer to the original games subtly when appropriate, and obviously where it won't take one out of the story. The time period in which you've set the story makes it necessary for shout-outs to be handled with care to keep immersion in YOUR story elements high, like the unique social structure you've built for this world and its nations, while still giving it the 'feel' of a Legend of Zelda adventure, as with the boss monsters you have created and may introduce in the future._

_Heck, you may even be going just a little too far in the other direction, if anything. To be expected in a modernized setting where magic has all but vanished and the goddesses have been mostly forgotten, but you leaving little tidbits and references to the old adventures and legends for us readers to mull over has helped keep your original world flavor sprinkled with Zelda goodness, so I'm not worried. Your Exoria files especially help with this._

_You obviously have ideas on how to handle the Zelda elements in a manner faithful to your narrative, so go ahead and cover your plot threads at your own pace. The results have been good so far, in my opinion. I'll be glad observe with the rest of the plebeians and see what you come up with, if it will help you improve the story in any way._

_tldr: Great job. Looking forward to the next chapter._

Now _that's_ a review.

I admit there are a lot of points where I was worried about how well I'm characterizing Zelda. There are several concerns: First off, I've really turned the Link-Zelda dynamic on its head; every time the two resemble young adults or at least older teenagers, it seemed that Zelda was the one who was older and more mature. In _Exoria_, it is, in a way, turned on its head. Link is older by a year, and while he doesn't possess enough political savvy as Zelda, field work with Joint Intelligence and his background in general has made him stoic and quiet, something that has generally been reserved as a Zelda-trait. There's also the fact that _Exoria_ mostly tracks Link and all the crazily awesome things he does, so I have to rely on politics to showcase Zelda…a realm where she has to compete for screentime with other politically-able characters such as Impa, Leonore, Ganondorf, and Emi. I'm trying to play the balancing act right here, but it can be difficult.

On a similar vein, I'm quite glad that you've noticed my attempts to depict Zelda's inner struggles and the stress on a girl who inherited a _modern_ country before she even became of age. I won't say she has a martyr complex – it would be unfair and inaccurate – but Zelda is armed with a great sense of bitterness that arguably is the reason she handles her duties with such competence and zeal. She understands the need and sympathizes with her people, but she recognizes that things were too early for her, and that the days where she could innocently believe in the future had ended before they've really begun. In a sense, the bitterness she possesses also becomes the motivation for self-sacrifice; her habits and subconsciousness really know little other recourse. But Impa helps temper that, and Zelda mostly keeps it under control. As a little treat, I'll say that Zelda's repressed personality is probably why Durandara, given "life" by the crown princess, is so rebellious, blunt, and snappy by nature.

I will first go ahead and say that depictions of Link and Ganondorf together will be relatively scarce. There are some storyline reasons to that, of course – although I daresay it has more to do with in-universe circumstance than it has to do with plot – but most of my motivation is to develop a mystique between the two. In fact, I might go ahead and say that, out of the original Triforce bearers, the link between Link and Ganondorf is stronger than the link between Link and Zelda, or Zelda and Ganondorf. It's this kind of theme where I immediately want to give away as little as possible, so what little times the two characters _do_ spend time in the same scene together will be vague, skimmed over, or hidden completely. Whether or not anything comes out of this will be left to your imagination.

…And I've probably given away a whole lot of notes in the space of one author's note, didn't I?

Thank you for the great thoughtful review. It's always delightful to see so much insight from someone else into something one has written.


	20. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

It was as the war saw a close to its twelfth day that the nimble girl with the large boomerang let out a sigh of discontent, allowing herself to emerge from the shadows of the alleyways close to the southern entrance to Fort Garuda's perimeter. With the sun having long set and the sky having turned from a mere navy to a pitch dark blue, she conceded that she was going to have to return to her master with no new results to report. It had only been two nights ago that her master received orders from his client to identify the equipment the young Hylian male – the one she had been observing since she determined his existence – was carrying, but yesterday's attempts at photographing him were met with mixed success at best, and he had not been present at all today. She had paid three other children – people whom the soldiers guarding Fort Garuda, despite their training, would _not_ look out for – some change to keep watch and come running to her should they see the Hylian leave from any other exit of the fort, but, at such a late hour, they were likely to have gone home already. With only a twenty-five percent chance of being able to catch him leaving Fort Garuda – and that was _if_ he left Fort Garuda – she knew her master would disapprove of her wasting her time on such unfavorable odds.

She had already sent new photographs of that young Hylian male and what possibly looked like his concealed weapon to her master the previous night, but he had ordered her to attempt to procure more pictures if possible to "dispel all doubt" for their client. It seemed as if this Valentine intelligence major they were working for at the moment was quite tough.

Ignoring the great boulevards of Garuda, the girl chose to choose the paths along the city's great street markets and bazaars instead. Prying eyes here were sure to talk and gossip like no other, but fewer people here would ask questions about a large boomerang strapped on her back, and there was the issue of traffic surveillance cameras on the larger streets. It would take her a bit more than forty minutes of a leisurely walk before she got back to her master's safehouse. She avoided the buses; not only were they inconvenient for her in regards to maintaining her presence a secret, those large vehicles intimidated her somehow, something alien to her everyday life.

A funny sentiment, she was all too aware, considering that she had been trained in the operation of – and was comfortable with – all sorts of military combat vehicles including tanks, IFVs, and APCs by the radicals in Southern Gerudo…yet felt uneasy with something as simple as a bus.

As she walked through the hustle and bustles of Garuda's markets, moving through the crowds, absentmindedly listening to the shrill calls of vendors left and right, the girl knew that this was one of the last bastions of the old Gerudo culture here in Garuda. There were still signs of what Gerudo once was, but they were relics, not a lifestyle; things were changing. The sermons seemed so long ago, the holy women decrying the selling out of the country's soul. If the central government – the northerners – had their way, they would say, then Gerudo would one day be indistinguishable from either Hyrule or Valent, and it would become weak. The conservatives and traditionalists wanted a return to the old ways, the methods that had seen them through for more than just centuries.

Again, the girl felt mildly amused. She had never left the borders of her homeland, but she knew enough of the world beyond the desert to understand that Gerudo's unique gender status quo re-defined its political spectrum, and what "conservatism" meant to the women of the southern deserts was very different from those of Hyrule and Valent. After all, foreign women would probably be disgusted at the thought of Gerudo girls fawning over polygamous male lords, but those were probably women who did not understand just how valuable men – men who could greatly repopulate their country by impregnating multiple women simultaneously – were to the nation's demographics and the ethnicity's survival. Taking boyfriends and husbands from foreign lands could _not_ be a permanent solution, not unless they were to hopelessly distort continental ethnic identity; now _that_ would be unthinkable.

But it was times like these, the girl realized as she turned down a darker alleyway from a market through a shortcut she was familiar with, that she reminded herself that she honestly did not care that much. The politics of it all, ultimately, mattered very little. Serving her master and pleasing him was all that mattered…and, curiously, even then, she was not entirely sure what he _really_ felt. Then, again, the girl knew she didn't need to know that either. Her master fought for Southern Gerudo, and she fought for him. That was all that mattered.

Except her reverie had temporary dropped her awareness, and it was only after she bumped into someone that she suddenly regained her attention. "Ah," she murmured as she regained her balance after stumbling back a step, realizing that she had spaced out. "My apologies."

There were, in fact, two women before her, not just one, both of which were some ways older than the girl with the boomerang. If she had to guess, the two were probably college graduates…and they certainly weren't looking particularly approachable at the moment. "I don't think you were being very sincere in that apology, young miss," the woman she had bumped into drawled harshly, and it was with that slurring voice that the girl finally realized – along with spotting a barely illuminated blush across both women's face – that they were drunk.

This was not totally unexpected; the increasing number of nightclubs and bars in northern Garuda was yet another symptom those in the south were trying to fight. At the moment, however, the girl cared little for what was traditional or not; the two were drunk, and reason would be lost upon them. It was best to just apologize and move on. It wasn't as if they didn't have a point, after all; she _had_ been a little absentminded and not very focused with her apology. "I was lost in my thoughts," she said humbly with a small bow, hoping that would be sufficient in defusing the situation. "I apologize for having inadvertently bumped into you."

The women finally smiled…but not in a way the girl found herself comfortable with, even as they took steps closer towards her. "Now isn't that better?" the other one sneered. "No need to hurry."

The girl immediately began to register a spike to her instinctive threat assessment. She spotted the glint of a knife in the hand of one woman, barely concealed behind her hip, and what was a broken glass bottle of bear in the hand of the other woman. Both possessed a bright flush across their faces that betrayed overconsumption of alcohol. And the girl most likely did not appreciate the predatory expressions her would-be assailants were carrying.

A little known aspect for those not familiar with criminology in Gerudo: The astounding historical lack of males in Gerudo had greatly lowered inhibitions and what would've otherwise been considered as social stigmas where female homosexuality was concerned. Ironically, male homosexuality was frowned even more upon in Gerudo than in Hyrule or Valent due to pragmatic reasons; there were not enough males to go around for the country to afford for them to be not attracted to women. In either case, however, when the dominance of women in Gerudo culture, it was understandable, acceptable, and sometimes even encouraged for females to develop intimate relationships with each other. By no means did every woman feel sexual or romantic attraction to the same gender, but closeness was virtually unavoidable, formed by the necessities of their unique culture.

On the flip side, although the number of sexual assaults nationwide were lower than those of Hyrule or Valent, that decrease was little better than marginal, and had the infamous reputation of being predominantly homosexual. Virtually every Gerudo citizen of sufficient age knew of this reality.

The threat of two women cornering her in a dark, quiet alley in Garuda, therefore, was not lost upon the girl with a boomerang, who, despite herself, immediately took two involuntary and defensive steps back.

"Now where are you going?" the woman that the girl had crashed into, moving even closer, edging towards the side, making an attempt to flee back down the alley the girl came from difficult. Calling for help could agitate these two into messy violence. Experience told her that there were no good options here. "Why don't you stay with us for a while. We'll be sure you enjoy your stay…"

Again, the girl took another few steps back, noting with great alarm that she was being backed into a blind alley, a great misjudgment of her surroundings. "Please," she spoke, her carrying a slightly pleading pitch. "I have no quarrel with you. I just want to go h…"

The hand with the bottle lashed out, and the woman felt a strangely satisfying pressure against the back of her hand as it made contact with the girl's smooth, tender skin. The bottle narrowly missed the cheek – she wasn't sure if it was just the alcohol messing with her sense of balance, but she could've _sworn_ that the girl had moved forward just a bit at the very last movement, as if to ensure it was the hand, not the bottle, that hit her face – but the force was still enough to send the girl, who had little time to prepare for that blow, sprawling onto her knees, crying out a bit from the pain.

It was a rather titillating feeling.

"_Quiet_," the woman who had struck out said in a stern, dangerous voice even as her friend behind her broke into a giggling fit, the two of them watching as the poor defenseless girl a head their shorter managed to pick herself up from the ground, using the alley wall for support. "Be good and no one gets hurt." The girl finally righted herself, standing upright once more, her expression now much more wary and perhaps just a little bit frightened even as the woman began to reach out for the girl with a lopsided grin. One of her hands slipped right under the folds of the girl's robes, sliding across skin that reminded the woman of herself a decade ago. "Just be good and…"

The motion was swift, fluid, with little fuss or dramatics. It was so impossibly simple that it was almost mocking, insulting. The girl merely took one step to the side, turned counterclockwise by ninety degrees, then – using her left hand to stabilize and tightly grip onto the lower wing of the large, metallic boomerang on her back – shifted her momentum heavily to her right towards the woman before her. The effect was instantaneous; the sharpened edge at the end of the boomerang's upper wing drove itself into the woman's chest before she had a chance to react. There was a wet gasp of pain; the girl herself had not pushed with enough momentum to actually impale her target with the bladed boomerang, but that had not been the intention, and the boomerang's edge had successfully cut through the woman's heart.

The woman's companion, in her drunken stupor, had not actually caught what had happened, for all she saw was the little girl disappearing from her line of sight in front of her friend for a moment. It was as that friend crumpled silently to the ground, however, and as the woman saw the blood on the girl's boomerang that she suddenly realized something was terribly, terribly wrong. Making what sounded very much like a panicked warbling sound, she stumbled backwards, tripping once, trying to run away from the scene and the killer girl as far as her disorientated body could take her.

For just a moment, the girl decided she was just going to led the second woman flee. After all, there was no point in destroying those who had already surrendered. It was only a split-second later, however, that she remembered in what capacity she was in Garuda for; the woman was drunk, but that didn't mean she wouldn't remember the girl's face by the time she became sober again…and the girl knew being attributed to a killing here – even if it was in self-defense – could easily be linked back to her master and their operation here in Garuda, compromising their entire mission.

She couldn't afford that, nor could her master.

With a spin and a practiced swing of her arm, the boomerang across her back was suddenly gone from the girl's back, spinning instead towards the fleeing woman. In the darkness, the boomerang was just a blur and the woman was just a silhouette, but, even then, the girl heard a sniping sound before it seemed like something had been knocked off the woman's shoulder, followed by the disappearance of that silhouette – being absorbed by the shadows of the ground – while the large boomerang spun upwards and began to spin back.

For the shortest of moments, the girl wondered if the conservatives and traditionalists had been right about the sins of bars and nightclubs.

The boomerang completed its return trip, and – in a motion influenced by so much practice she could boast of doing it in her sleep – the girl caught the handle of her bladed weapon, noting acutely of another blood stain across its blades. It seemed that alleyways were going to have to do for now in terms of getting back to the safehouse, at least until she could get the blood off her weapon; it wouldn't do to have someone notice it on the boomerang on her back.

Latching the weapon back onto its straps, the girl, rerouting her way home across the alleys of Garuda, couldn't help but feel that – despite the waste of human life – the chance to practice felt rather nice.

* * *

"Connected. Verify yourself, Stranger C."

The computer screen before Stranger C. was the only source of light in the dining room of his Garuda safehouse; there were no candles this time, for they had run out, and the grizzled mercenary had seen signs that it was likely they would be leaving the Gerudo capital soon. With a deep, rumbling, but clear voice, the large man cleared his throat before speaking into the microphone of the laptop: "Charlie-Echo-India-November."

"Verified, Stranger C.," came the scrambled voice on the other side of the audio feed, but just by the speed and way the speaker pronounced certain words, Stranger C. could tell that it was the same Valentine military intelligence officer acting as a liaison for him for the last few days. "You're also on with Major Juno."

"We've analyzed and verified your images of the individual you have tailed," a second voice, presumably female and presumably the same intelligence major Juno who had ordered him to procure photographs of a man who was known by the service staff only as "Link". "I believe that he is a high-value target and extremely dangerous, and that we need to exercise all possible resources to track down and eliminate this threat." To the service staff within Fort Garuda, the high value target was merely a bodyguard to her Highness the Princess Zelda of Hyrule, but interesting rumors had already been passed through those servicewomen loyal to Garuda that Link was, in fact, some kind of Hylian operative that was responsible for the destruction of one of Valent's superweapons. Rumors spread across the vine quickly, and it was not difficult at all for Stranger C. to pick up on the gossip, information that Valentine military intelligence now knew as well.

No wonder Major Juno was focusing so many resources on this one person, if her intelligence was indeed true. There was a measure of disbelief on his part as to how any one man could defeat a superweapon, as they have come to be called, but Stranger C. held onto his reservations; the traditionally conservative Valentine military intelligence was not known to liberally dedicate resources on a whim.

There was a lengthy pause, as if Juno had expected the veteran mercenary to say something in response; Stranger C. – personally wondering if the major was just trying to seem dramatic or trying to goad him into a state of interrogative – remained silent, envisioning the possibility of the intelligence major looking irritated at her local asset not taking the bait. To her credit, Juno kept her voice level as she continued, "For this purpose, you are being re-tasked for an operation near the main line of resistance in Hyrule. I have made arrangements for local assets to provide you with immediate aerial transportation to a designated point in Hyrule, where you will briefed on your next operation."

"I will see the terms of this new contract," Stranger C. noted simply. Regardless of how far Dartemis felt cooperation with Valentine forces should go, he often reminded himself that he was merely a mercenary sympathetic to the cause, nothing more; in the end, contracts, bank accounts, and funds were all that mattered.

"Transmitting," spoke the Valentine military intelligence liaison, and – within a few seconds – a block of official-looking text, complete with legal jargon, financial numbers, and military lingo appeared on his screen.

It was amusing, Stranger C. thought, of how these documents were perceived to hold any weight during a time of international war, but he supposed things worked out well in the end, especially if the financial and economic institutions in Southern Gerudo recognized these statutes. Ultimately, however, the new terms – additions to his current mission of specific intelligence-gathering in Garuda – were tolerable to him. It seemed that he was getting a more active role in all this cloak-and-dagger effort, something that worried him considerably, but there were benefits to agreeing, just as there were hidden risks of declining against Valentine cooperation now. After all, mercenaries were easily disposable in the grand scheme of things. "Accepted," Stranger C. conceded.

Even with the voice scrambler on the other end of the line activated, there was a notable tone of satisfaction in Major Juno's distorted voice. "A flight registered under the name of Emil is scheduled to leave the Avagana private airport in one hour. You will be transported to the designated meeting point. Be there."

The connection was terminated from the other end, leaving Stranger C. to sigh and stretch in the chair he had settled himself in. For a moment, he seemed thoughtful, even melancholy, his eyes staring at the direction of the laptop's screen, but not _at_ it, a faraway stare gracing his gaze. So many things to think about. So many regrets. So few answers. That was the only legacy he had, the only legacy he had to pass on.

That, and so many years of battle, bloodshed, and death. The sad part was that he didn't even think he could turn away from it anymore. So many fought in the name of Southern Gerudo, allying themselves with Valent as they did so. It was something the mercenary would never have doubted years ago. Now…he just didn't know.

It left him melancholy and wistful.

But that look immediately evaporated, replaced by one of stern concentration as soon as the clicking of the door lock made itself audible from the living room, the sound of the unlocking of the door and its subsequent swinging open. It did not take long for the silhouette of the young girl with a boomerang on her back – details of her visage only visible by the dim ambient lighting cast by the screen of Stranger C.'s laptop – to appear in the dining room within which the mercenary had seated herself, and she dropped once more to her customary kneel. "Master," she uttered with diligent respect, her voice soft and serene. "I have returned."

Stranger C. made no indication that he had seen or heard the girl, allowing that moment there to suspend itself in time, the room utterly motionless. He knew that the girl would continue to kneel there – perhaps to eternity – until he dismissed her; in a way, Stranger C. knew that perhaps this was just his own twisted way of punishing himself. "One day," he eventually murmured, his voice surprisingly soft as he spoke the words, "you will have to learn to stop calling me that."

If the girl understood the import of those words, she did not show it. She merely bowed her head even deeper where she had knelt, the bob of her head accompanied only by the dutiful words of "yes, master".

A hard look settled on Stranger C.'s features even as she looked down upon the girl, but he knew all too well that it was not disapproval towards the girl – he could _never_ do that – as much as it was disappointment towards himself.

It reminded him of how colossally everything had failed him. Even himself.

"Pack your things," Stranger C. muttered, standing up in his seat and shutting down his laptop, already beginning the process of clearing out of their safehouse so to seem that they had never been here. "We are leaving for another operation in Hyrule."

"Yes, master."

* * *

It was just before eight in the evening that Link finally returned to Fort Garuda by helicopter. His two-women escort – who had, to his dismay, treated him as some kind of mixture between a state dignitary and a celebrity – had offered to take him back up to his room, but he convinced them that it was fine; he personally needed a little space to himself after the rather overwhelming experience that was being beside the generalissimo during the military review in Gran.

Walking down the fortress corridors towards the elevators that would lead back to the diplomatic suites, the Joint Intelligence agent tiredly recalled the great lines of hundreds of military women standing in formation in the sweltering desert heat, walking down those columns of soldiers and officers with Generalissimo Ganondorf and his entourage of top military and political subordinates, watching haphazardly acrobatic flybys by Gerudo fighter jets in the air above, feeling very image conscious at all the eyes and cameras that were upon the few males at that formal gathering. Link honestly wasn't sure how to feel about it all, given that he had gone into this troop review without any real expectations. In fact, he and Ganondorf hadn't even really talked much before, during, or after the review.

Not at all unexpected, really; the generalissimo spent most of his time being surrounded by his own officers and advisors, handling issues of state when he wasn't trying to appear dignified before his subordinates…something that Link noticed the generalissimo had absolutely no problems in doing. The man who was the sovereign of the Gerudo Union had a latent, powerful aura of strength and charisma that was impossible to ignore.

In contrast, Link couldn't help but feel – stepping into the elevator and allowing it to take him to the diplomatic suites – like he was just sort of dragged around as a poster boy. Which was really exactly what he was supposed to be – if only a more glorified version of it – but it still rubbed off him in a strange, uncomfortable way.

That said, however, Link was still politically-aware enough to understand the image that Ganondorf was trying to show him. Although the vast majority of Gerudo's armed forces had been fully activated by the second and third days of the war, the issue of supplying and logistics had not been perfected in the first week, what with extra demands of resources at the northwestern front lines, the rerouting of supply lines with sporadic Anansi attacks, the mobilization of virtually every army group Gerudo had into defensive positions. The first week had been fraught with preparations to supply retreating Gerudo army groups into a fighting standstill. The troops that the generalissimo had just reviewed, however, were reserve battalions that had not yet been mobilized simply because they had been further down the queue of supply tasking.

Now that it seemed even the reserve forces were being supplied and prepped to move out, Ganondorf's message was unmistakable: Gerudo was at full military might, ready to bring the fight back to the enemy. Valent – and, if necessary, Hyrule as well – had best be cautious.

With a pleasant ding, the elevator doors parted on Link's floor, and the agent stepped back into familiar surroundings, the hallways of the diplomatic suites, preceded by a front desk manned by a familiar sergeant…the same sergeant who had been manning that desk on Link's first morning in Fort Garuda ten and a half days ago, now that he thought about it. The officer immediately stood – not necessarily at attention, but a definite gesture of respect – as soon as the agent had appeared, and, not for the first time, Link admitted he felt a bit embarrassed at the unaccustomed attention he was receiving.

"Agent Link," the sergeant gave a respectful bow, but Link couldn't help but notice that there was almost a mischievous – although _probably_ good-natured – grin to be hid on part of the NCO manning the reception. "I trust you have been informed on your return trip that Princess Zelda has been transported to another location?"

In fact, he _had_. Link had been remarkably surprised at the news while on the rather shaky flight back from Gran to Garuda when it had been delivered to him by a member of the flight crew. Inwardly, he _was_ quite relieved – that they _finally_ had word from one of the leaders of Hylian's armed forces was certainly a blessing – but he couldn't help but worry that he was not beside her Highness, protecting her from harm as her bodyguard. But the agent understood Zelda's motivation, her drive to return to her country, her desire to liberate her kingdom. Such national interests preceded the worries of a single Joint Intelligence agent…and, perhaps for Zelda, the crown princess herself.

But the sergeant had no need to know all that, so Link merely nodded politely.

The sergeant provided a friendly smile. "Please have a good evening, then," she offered before sitting back down, and just as Link began to make it past the desk and down the hallway back towards the suites, she suddenly added, no longer able to contain that mischievous grin, "Oh, you looked great on live television. Just so you know."

Link visibly paused at that, almost froze up a bit. So the cameras that had been rolling at Gran Military Base were not just a recording, but a _live broadcast_. That was supposed to be expected, he supposed, but he couldn't help but feel unsettled by the feeling that his image was being broadcast across the country. In fact, Link wasn't sure what he was supposed to be worried about more, that the audience was predominantly female, or that such a broadcast was probably going to end his career as an undercover agent now that everyone saw him beside the generalissimo. True, he looked to be only a random member of Ganondorf's entourage, and he probably wouldn't be noticed beside the more imposing and important generalissimo unless someone was looking carefully…but, unfortunately, members of the intelligence community were very careful.

And so were, as Durandara would probably like him to believe, single girls.

Agent Link was careful to neither sigh nor turn around as he continued walking towards the suites; the worry that a blush may have crept across his face was not insignificant.

But most likely contrary to anyone's expectations, the first room Link walked to was not his own, but the suite that was once Zelda's. Before he realized it, he had knocked thrice on the door out of habit, then – realizing how foolish that must've seemed – slowly pushed the unlocked doors open, slipped inside, and closed it behind him. Its interior, however, was not exactly what he had expected; clearly, housekeeping had yet to tear through the room, as all the equipment and paperwork Zelda had accumulated during her stay were still scattered haphazardly around, something that discouraged the notion that she had left and wasn't expecting to come back.

As soon as Link had closed the door behind him, the flickering of light before him eventually materialized into the familiar holographic form of Durandara, who appeared to "sit" herself on top of the back of a sofa, playfully kicking her legs to and fro as she did so. "Glad to see you've received my message," she cheerfully quipped and threw off a mock salute, clearly teasing him about having to deal with a military review. Catching Link's look around at the mess that logically should've been cleared away before, she explained, "The princess wanted me to stay and keep tabs on Gerudo communications traffic, so she figured I would be easier to hide in this mess, at least until you got her. She got housekeeping and other staff to assume that there's a high likelihood she's coming back." Taking a breath – which was completely unnecessary, but the AI enjoyed her dramatics, the AI continued. "I know they haven't filled you in on the details completely, so let me fill in the blanks here: Her Highness, Chief of Staff Impa, and Director Leonore have left for New Wagner. They made contact with Major General Morgan, and it seems the city's one of the last bastions for friendly forces standing in Hyrule. So, of course, her Highness decided that the first thing she must do was to fly right over."

That did answer a few of Link's question and confirm a few lingering suspicions he had. Of course, it also instilled a greater sense of worry as he wondered just _how_ Zelda and the Gerudo air force intended to fly the princess over to New Wagner, which – unless one took a major detour – would likely include airspace right over Valentine-occupied territory. But the agent forced himself to banish such thoughts; even if Zelda was willing to risk everything to rejoin her army – and Link had a sneaking suspicion that she _was_ – Gerudo leadership likely would not have allowed for such a flight unless there was a reasonable likelihood that Zelda would arrive at New Wagner safely.

That said, Link _did_ wonder if Ganondorf was briefed about this…and how perfectly coincidental that both the generalissimo and Link himself had been preoccupied at a review of the Gerudo armed forces at Gran when this had happened.

"I'm uncertain as to whether her Highness would like to keep you here for now as a liaison of sorts to the Generalissimo – he seems to like you – or if you'll be rejoining her in New Wagner as soon as possible. Which _may_ be difficult, considering I've received no news in Gerudo communications traffic regarding _anything_ about her Highness, so I don't even know if her plane has reached New Wagner yet. You'd best make yourself ready to leave at…"

But a double-knock at the doors called Durandara's hologram to flicker out immediately as she fell silent and invisible, just as the door to what was once Zelda's suite slowly opened by a bit, revealing the figure dressed in the familiar white-and-red robes of MICO; Link made off with a quick glance at the insignia on her robes, saw that this officer was a second lieutenant. Judging by her serene, serious expression, the agent guessed that Durandara had dematerialized just in time, and the Gerudo intelligence officer didn't see anything she didn't need to see.

"Agent Link?" the MICO second lieutenant muttered and, as soon as she laid eyes upon Link standing within the room, opened the door a bit more to reveal herself completely and gave a respectful Gerudo bow. "Excuse my interruption. I have been requested to inform you that there is an urgent matter that requires your attention. I have not been briefed on what it is, but I've been requested to escort you upstairs with all haste."

Link suppressed a frown; he was young even by Joint Intelligence standards, but even _he_ was experienced enough to know that when a fellow intelligence officer spoke in a deliberately vague manner with little elaboration, chances were good that he or she was not going to offer more details just because one asked _again_. Warning bells labeled "cloak-and-dagger" were going off in the back of the agent's head, but – for now – he nodded politely before gently pointing in the direction of his own room, a quick indication that he'd like to at least get washed up for a little bit.

The second lieutenant accommodatingly nodded in reply. "Of course, Agent Link. I'll be waiting at the front desk." She gave a quick bow and disappeared behind the doors, but left it half-open under the assumption that Link was soon to leave anyways.

"Yank me." Durandara's hologram had reappeared on the sofa, but her voice was directed towards Link's eardrums just in case anyone was trying to listen in from outside. A stern, harsh expression, one full of suspicion and foreboding, had crossed her digital face. "I _so_ want to hear this."

Link obeyed, locating Durandara's silver flash drive connected to the communications suite that still remained on the suite's desk, disconnecting it and quietly shoving it back into his pocket. It was at that moment that he whimsically wondered just _how_ Durandara was powered, if there was some sort of extremely impressive power supply within a tiny flash drive that permitted for an AI to operate like this. Ultimately, though, he just as whimsically categorized that into the realm of Zelda's magic, knowing full well that Durandara likely would've disapproved of such a view; artificial intelligences didn't deal with the insinuation of "magic" very well, so it appeared.

Claiming to need to wash up had just been an excuse for a few extra seconds with Durandara, but since he had already thrown that out to the MICO second lieutenant, Link took a quick detour to his room to splash water on his face anyways, wiping it down with a towel before donning his Joint Intelligence sunglasses, taking little more than a minute before making it out of his own suite and towards the front desk, where the waiting second lieutenant gave another bow as soon as she saw him approaching, gesturing towards the elevators with a polite "please follow me".

Entering one of the elevators, Link noted that the second lieutenant pressed a button for a floor several levels below the diplomatic suites, but was not consistent with what he assumed were the floors for the office of the generalissimo or the director of MICO, the two persons he believed were the most likely candidates for calling him out like this. As the elevators doors closed and the elevator itself began to descend down the shaft, Link couldn't help but feel a sense of uneasiness. If someone he didn't otherwise know was summoning him, it hinted at far too many unknowns for his comfort; if it _was_ either Generalissimo Ganondorf or Director Emi pulling him out beyond their usual workplaces, then his suspicions about more cloak-and-dagger were likely right on the money.

The elevator doors opened and the Gerudo officer led Link out, the latter realizing as he stepped onto the floor that the interior had rather nondescript features, even by somewhat minimalistic Gerudo standards, and he found himself having very little clue as to what this floor was actually used for. There were no signs of other signs of decoration, and Link only spotted two patrols as the two weaved through bland corridors with plain walls interrupted only by equally plain doors labeled with non-indicative numbers by sequence.

After a few turns, the second lieutenant finally stopped before a door, but instead of knocking on it or opening it for Link, she merely gestured towards the door for the agent, as if indicating that he needed to enter, and as soon as Link was close enough, the second lieutenant gave a quick, wordless bow before she retreated back down where they had come from, leaving the Joint Intelligence agent with a closed door to enter through.

Link grimaced as he opened the door; there were only a few people in his immediate recollection who would be this deep in cloak-and-dagger, and the agent found himself none-too-surprised to see the pacing figure of MICO Director Emi beyond the open door.

The director herself quickly looked around with her usual taut sternness as soon as she had heard the door swing open, giving a respectful but minimalist nod at Link as soon as he had entered and politely closed the door behind him, little else. Upon entering, Link himself realized that these were probably private meeting rooms, with the dimensions and layout resembling something of an interrogation room. In fact, with its bare surroundings, plain table, and two fold-up chairs, Link couldn't help but wonder if these were merely interrogation rooms reconverted into private, discreet meeting spots.

He couldn't deny that it ensured a measure of privacy, though, for those who didn't want to attract attention.

"A situation has just arisen which requires my personal attention," Emi explained in her usually gravelly voice. "Needless to say, I'm sure you've deduced this is something that may pertain to you." Her hand waved to the seat opposite of her. "Have a seat." It was a half-request, half-command.

Link wasn't sure he liked that tone, but he slowly, hesitantly obeyed. He had been on a stretch of a morale-raising publicity campaign with Generalissimo Ganondorf no more than two hours ago, and he didn't need to do anything contrary to the message his mission had been giving thus far.

Emi, too, seated herself in the seat on the other side, dropping a fairly thin folder onto the metallic table before them. "MICO has been covertly contacted by the zorans in the Aurora Ocean," she explained, her eye watching Link intensely as if gauging for a reaction. "They have somehow learned that Princess Zelda was here in Garuda, and have been attempting to make contact with the joint Gerudo-Hylian leadership, attempts that have been hindered by the inability to adequately make electronic communications. So far, communications between MICO and the zorans have been restricted to one of our field officers making periodic meetings with one of the zoran representatives at an undisclosed location. We have not yet ascertained whether or not they know her Highness is currently not in Garuda, but my experience says no." Her eye narrowed almost in an accusatory manner. "They also believe that we – or _you_, specifically – had something to do with Anansi's destruction."

The narrowing of his eyes told Emi of what Link was unwilling to actually say aloud: There was a leak. The rumor mill amongst the Gerudo enlisted was one thing, but the zorans aware of their operation to destroy one of Valent's superweapons? Link didn't like the sound of that, and it showed…not to mention Emi's unimpressed glare seem to give an uncomfortable vibe, the feeling that the MICO director suspected that Link may have had something to do with that leak.

"The zorans claim that they wish to support the Gerudo-Hylian alliance, and they also claim that Jormungand is currently in the Aurora Ocean. They have sent digital photographs as supposed proof of this. While we're still analyzing the images, we do not believe them to have been doctored." She plucked out a few photographs from within her folder, handed them over to Link for his viewing convenience. Despite having some experience in amphibious warfare, Link could barely recognize the blurry shapes in the images that seem to have been captured underwater, and personally wondered how MICO could've possibly come to the conclusion that this was Jormungand or any kind of submarine vessel, never mind the images being doctored. "Intelligence has also been provided with the insinuation that the stalemate between the Hylian and Valentine navies has been broken by the increased deployment of Jormungand in the area, and the Hylians have been suffering major losses in ships and manpower." More photos appeared from within Emi's folders, containing images that Link could recognize with a sinking feeling in his stomach: Aerial reconnaissance photos of what looked like naval wreckages. The devastated metallic frames that were kept barely afloat on the surfaces of the water had clear Hylian configurations.

The Hylian army wasn't the only branch of their military that was taking hits; now even the famed Hylian navy, the most powerful on the continent, was slowly being reduced to scrap metal.

"The loss of Anansi has hit the Valentine war effort much harder than we had expected," Emi went on to say. That particular sentence was supposed to sound like a spot of hope, but it had come out in an emotionless, pragmatic, almost tense manner from the MICO director's gravelly voice and icy demeanor. "The zorans have, however, refused to divulge any more information to us, and insist that any further cooperation must be negotiated with the sovereign of Hyrule, citing Hylian jurisdiction over their natural reserves." Her fingers pressed together before her lips as elbows were placed atop the table. "Their intents are clear enough. Valentine incursion into Hylian territorial waters also means that the well-being of their natural reserves is threatened. Their photographs of Jormungand effectively insinuate that they wish for us to destroy it." She took a deep breath, the finished, "Under the circumstances, I am inclined to believe that it is prudent to send you to Hyrule once again to make contact with the zorans on behalf of Princess Zelda."

It actually took several seconds for Link to finally recognize the import of Emi's words, and his delayed reaction at what he would've considered an outrageous, unthinkable request was not as subtle as he would've otherwise had hoped for. His lips parted slightly, the brow furrowing in incredulity, a crack in what was otherwise a stoic mask for Joint Intelligence agents. Link was normally not very facially expressive, but his features painted a clear message: "You're asking me to do _what_?"

"You are the only asset our alliance has who has taken down a Valentine superweapon thus far." There was clearly no guilt felt on the part of Emi, who continued as if Link's stunned reaction had never happened. "With the rest of your delegation currently on their way to rendezvous with Hylian forces, you are the only Hylian representative available to us so far. We do not know when Princess Zelda will be able to return, and, due to still-heavy enemy jamming, we are unable to contact her either."

"Attempting to contact Princess Zelda right now," Durandara whispered in Link's ear for the first time since Emi began briefing the agent. The AI's quiet voice allowed Link to feel slightly comforted by the insinuation that he wasn't the only one feeling a bit suspicious about Emi's request.

"We also do not know when the zorans will become impatient with us and withdraw their offer," resumed the MICO director, "nor do we know when their intelligence on Jormungand's location becomes irrelevant. They wish to deal with Hyrule, not with us. It's your move; we're merely providing the transportation. I see this as a rare opportunity we can capitalize on."

Link fought down a grimace, now knowing exactly why Emi had gone so far as to come here to make such a daring request of Link, now knowing exactly what Emi was trying to say: This was very likely a now-or-never situation. With access to his chain of command cut off, the decision only in the hands of the Gerudo chain of command and himself. As if to drive that point home, Durandara's whisper confirmed Emi's claim: "Emi's right; I can't reach her Highness' transport plane. There is a high likelihood that this is the result of enemy ECM."

Closing her eye in what could've been liberally interpreted as an expression of subdued exasperation, Emi finished, "Despite the alliance, there is no formal chain of command that allows MICO to commandeer Hylian resources. The present situation makes it impossible for us to contact your chain of command, however." She opened her eye, stared intensely at Link, putting the spotlight on this Joint Intelligence agent before her. "I am to believe, therefore, that the decision lies solely with you."

Translation: Clock's ticking, so hurry up and make up your mind for yourself.

Link slowly rose from his seat, nothing abrupt to give Emi the impression that he was storming away. Rather, he paced back and forth a moment, seemingly contemplative, in thought. He was, of course, considering his options, but – more importantly – he was also providing Durandara an opportunity to make her opinion known in a short moment of silence.

"The dots are beginning to line up, aren't they?" Durandara sighed, inaudible to Emi; there was a strange, harsh quality to her voice, understandably embittered. "Like it or not, Emi's got a point, and a very good one at that. Jormungand _does_ take priority. I have no _particularly_ strong recommendation on this, but the princess did not leave you with any outstanding tasks beyond look pretty to the girls here."

It took some effort for Link to not blink or betray any sign that the AI whispering into his ear had just told a particularly bad joke. Still trying to allay any hint of suspicion from Emi, he continued to pace, thinking as fast as he was able. Ultimately, however, in the end, he realized the MICO director was right: With nothing to do in Garuda when her Highness was not even the country, he had a mandate to do whatever was possible for the war effort.

Another Valentine weapon was out there, as vulnerable as they'll ever expect it to be. It was not something that could wait.

* * *

Distant, drifting lights betrayed the positions and movements of headlights belonging to military vehicles, some as close as two hundred meters away, other stretched to kilometers out, most of them moving in the same direction. The sky was not completely dark yet, but the heavenly canopy had darkened to a heavy navy hue, half an hour after the sun had disappeared completely beyond the emerald horizons of Hyrule. The night sky made the traveling vehicles easy to spot, but it also hid countermeasures in the local terrain – complete with rolling hills and several woodlands – that would discourage attempts to attack the retreating vehicles.

Alexandria wasn't sure if the Hylians even had the manpower or firepower to mount attacks on retreating Hylian convoys from Fort Regner to October City, but it never hurt to be careful. The fact that Gerudo forces were not so far away on the other side of the border complicated matters.

Her footsteps from the woodlands of southern Hyrule silent, Alexandria held onto a flashlight in one hand, a military phone in another, swiftly surveying the ground around her even as the cool voice of General Constantine spoke to her electronically from the Haven in Velvet, Valent. "I've overviewed your revised recommendations for special forces security protocol. I assume you understand there will be quite a few of us who won't be happy with this?"

"I understand," replied Alexandria; given that she had once been a special forces captain herself, this was not at all surprising. "I also understand that we are reliant on Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl more than we are reliant on special forces at the moment."

The intelligence major didn't need to be on the other end of the connection to venture a guess that Constantine had allowed himself the barest of smiles; Alexandria's frankness and competence was a breath of fresh air compared to the constant ass-kissing that seemed to pervade the higher echelons of any military. "Indeed," he murmured. "I approve of your recommendations. They will be implemented within the next twelve hours."

"Yes, sir."

There was a significant, thoughtful pause after that. "Where are you now?" asked the special forces general.

"Still south of Fort Regner, sir. I've already communicated with all local assets whom I believe have had contact with the Hylian operative, but forensic evidence of the area may give us further clues about how the Hylians will plan future operations against our offensives."

"I thought we deemed Fort Regner indefensible, and local forces are falling back to October City."

"They are, sir," Alexandria nodded in confirmation, turning around with her flashlight, temporarily distracted by what looked like flashes of heavy weaponry on the horizon, flashing against the night sky, visible even through all the trees, the muted cracks of gunfire heard only seconds later. "The withdrawal is taking place as I speak. I will be on the last transport out to October City in two hours."

"Aren't there any military intelligence specialists who can do this for you and report results?" Constantine asked. A great many Valentine officers operated off an honor code that could make them fairly selfless in the line of duty, but considering that the 1st Special Investigative Unit was still comprised entirely of just three individuals, Alexandria reasoned that General Constantine probably wasn't terribly thrilled with the idea of having one of them so close to enemy lines where she was easily vulnerable, especially in an area that Valentine forces were giving up.

"I believe I can gather more information by being present, sir," Alexandria replied coolly; her voice just a tiny bit defensive. "I'm already here."

Constantine did not bother to suppress a short, soft chuckle this time. "And I told you that you could operate in any way you like."

"Yes, sir," concurred Major Alexandria.

What sounded like a tired sigh came through the receiver; it was clear that the National Defense Committee had been subject to a great deal of stress over the last few days, something that even a battle-hardened officer such as Constantine was not immune to. "I understand," he finally conceded. "Remember that we are still relying on your for further developments. Extract yourself from the area as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir," Alexandria replied, waited until the general's side of the line disconnected first before turning off her military phone.

The major expelled a sigh, although she was not sure whether it was of exhaustion or relief. For starters, new security protocols for special forces had taken up a good bulk of her thoughts throughout the entire investigation effort, meaning that she probably had less time to think about matters pertaining to the investigation than Juno. Which was something that Alexandria otherwise wouldn't have minded if she hadn't been entirely aware that Juno had a penchant of sabotaging the investigations of others; a call to the officers in charge of salvaging in October City quickly got Alexandria a roadblock in the form of an A-17 directive, which prevented the officers from talking to anyone. The major didn't even need to ask who issued it.

Chances were that there was little hope of trying to find any further clues from October City, hence the detour to the forests south of Fort Regner, but Alexandria was frank to herself in the admission that an investigation here in the woods through the night while local defensive forces were evacuating made it difficult to carry out any type of investigation with any real hope of success. Still, Alexandria's mind was still working on possible alternatives regardless; there _was_ one other contingency plan she could utilize in her favor, but now was not the time for it.

If she had to guess, though, that moment was coming _very_ soon. For now, she was just going to make the best out of whatever time she had left.

Weather over the past few days in the area had mostly been clear, although with several instances of fog. Ultimately, though, there was little in the way of precipitation, so chances were that there were that tracks from days ago would still remain. As far as she was able to make out from the testimonies of Corporal Nicholas, local anti-air crews, and the pursuing forces of an identified hostile moving south towards the Hylian-Gerudo border on the night of Anansi's destruction, Alexandria had managed to formulate what amounted to a working hypothesis: That the saboteur had been inserted into Valentine-occupied Hyrule via Gerudo fixed-wing aircraft, that he was masqueraded as a member of special forces before managing to reach October City several hours later, and then was exfiltrated by waiting and ambushing Gerudo forces at the border on the same night, an operation that succeeded with overwhelming results within a single day.

There was one very important conclusion to draw from all this…

…But it wasn't a conclusion that Alexandria had time to think upon just yet, because, from a spread angle in front of her, the very clear sounds of assault rifles being armed and aimed at her caused her to give pause.

_They were right_, the major thought coolly to herself, realizing that she had actually allowed herself to be snuck up upon, far more composed than a woman staring down the barrels of at maybe half a dozen assault rifles should be. _Office work _does_ eventually make you slow_.

"Drop the flashlight!" shouted one of her assailants – clearly the leader of a small Hylian infantry squad – as Alexandria counted five soldiers in full combat gear fanned out before her, their weapons leveled at her and preparing to fire at the least of provocations. "Drop the flashlight, get on your knees, and interlock your fingers behind your head! Do it now!"

_Professional_, Alexandria surmised of the actions of this small six-man squad. Only the leader was giving orders, and the entire outfit wasn't shouting like an enraged mob; that spoke of discipline Valentine soldiers did not often expect from Hylian soldiers. More importantly, this didn't have the look of a coordinated attack; more precisely, given the fact that it didn't seem like there was any other large Hylian detachments in the area – Alexandria knew what to look for, knew how other infantry outfits would move or form up if there was adjacent support cover – it seemed that this was a fairly unilateral operation by a small Hylian squad, independent from the main force. That, and the fact that there _shouldn't_ be a main force in the region; most Hylian forces had already evacuated from the region, and now it was Valent's turn as Gerudo prepared to roll in. Chances were good that this was a remnant force that – knowing they wouldn't make much difference in _combat_ with their numbers – aimed for strategic goals like capturing officers, which was _probably_ why they had tried so hard to creep up on Alexandria instead of just shooting her.

_Let's buy time_, she decided, deliberately speaking in High Valentine as opposed to Interlingua, throwing the Hylian soldiers off their game. She was twisting their expectations to her advantage, deliberately invoking hesitation; everyone on the continent spoke Interlingua, so chances were good that, for the next ten seconds, the Hylians would just be confused enough before deciding to call her out on pretending not to speak Interlingua…or perhaps they would simply get impatient. It didn't even matter what Alexandria said in particular, so long as it _sounded_ like Valentine, and the Hylians didn't understand it.

It was likely the first time in their lives that the soldiers met someone who _didn't_ immediately respond in Interlingua, and the subconscious reaction of all the men was to hesitate; where instinct and reflex stopped, intellect attempted to pick up the slack. Unfortunately for them, it took time for their brains to work out this unfamiliar situation, so – for the time being – it was back to hissing dangerously in Interlingua, "I said get down on your knees! _On your knees_! _Hands on your head_! _Do you understand what I'm saying_?"

But Alexandria continued to feign ignorance, and now she was looking left to right, swiveling her body as she seemed to speak to the soldiers as individuals as opposed to a group, swinging left and right just enough to look like she was _calmly_ trying to appeal to each of the individuals aiming a firearm at her. More importantly, even as she continued to calmly speak in Valentine, the flashlight swiveled with her turns, which meant that every man she faced had their eyes temporarily exposed to a brilliant beam of light on a dark night. The Hylians became louder, shouting at her to put the flashlight down, but with the dots not connecting yet, with a perceived communications problem, with no clear threat assessment, the Hylians were attempting to avoid the use of lethal force even as frustration mounted, even as they squinted and shielded their eyes with their arms every time Alexandria pointed her flashlight at them, shouting at her to put the flashlight down and get on her knees. Frustration led to mistakes.

Then, a breakthrough: One of the soldiers – not the leader, but an enlisted rifleman – finally began to step forward, his voice growing even louder than the crescendo of voices around him that somehow believed someone who didn't understand Interlingua would be enlightened so long as they were _loud_ enough. He did so cautiously, moving with careful steps, apparently trying to get close enough to either intimidate Alexandria into getting on her knees or disarm her. A quick scan around her told that, on average, each of the soldiers stood at about five meters away – a good distance for small arms – save the one Hylian who was edging closer towards her.

_Come a little closer_, Alexandria willed, pretending to give _that_ man no more attention than the other four soldiers as she continued to babble on in High Valentine, to turn and shine her flashlight into their eyes. _I'll show you a trick_.

That prayer was answered, and as soon as the enemy rifleman had stopped at a meter and a half away, Alexandria finally held a hand up slowly, as if trying to placate the enemy, slowly dropping to the ground – not getting on her knees, but more like bending down to a crouch. Even as she did so, she softened her speech and tone, gave slow and submissive nods, but – more importantly – continued to shine her flashlight at enemy eyes at slower intervals.

That last action had two major objectives. The first was to irritate the pupils of the Hylian soldiers, forcing them to contract, making them less sensitive to the light and less worthy of the night. The Hylians, temporarily unable to see well in the dark, would attempt to use the flashlight as an indicator of where Alexandria was in the black, a poor choice for a target considering a flashlight could easily be detached from her arm. The second objective utilized the forces of contrast, as Alexandria knew all too well that a strong source of light shielded objects in the darkness behind it from view; with the blinding light of the flashlight, the Hylians could not see what was behind and beside this source of brightness.

Such as, for example, the gunsword that Alexandria had plucked from her holster and the combat knife she had taken from her ankle holster, none of which were detected by the Hylians distracted more by the flashlight and what seemed vaguely like a silhouette that was beginning to blur into the darkness courtesy of contracted pupils.

And, as soon as she had crouched down just far enough to lay her flashlight onto the ground, Alexandria finished the last step of preparing herself for a counterattack. Getting on her knees was not meant to give up her mobility; it was meant to give her a crouching start that allowed for a greater, faster takeoff into a full sprint.

Before she left special forces and transferred into military intelligence, Alexandria held her company's all-time record for the sixty-meter sprint, a distance so short that takeoff and reflexes were more important than anything else. One and a half meters to the closest Hylian soldier was _nothing_ to her.

The flashlight hit the grass, and Alexandria disappeared. There was a surprised male yelp, a grunt, and the Hylian soldiers tensed, not realizing what was going on, and too slow in fully realizing that their comrades – all of whom depended on the others for a better field of vision – were also in a similar predicament of not seeing very well in the dark thanks to a deftly-wielded flashlight. It took just a few seconds for them to try to make out what they were seeing before them…

…And swiftly discovered that Alexandria had forced the Hylian rifleman who had gotten too close into a neck-lock, her left hand holding a knife pressed harshly against her victim's throat, and her right arm pressing down against the man's right shoulder as another force to keep him locked into position, the hand at the end of that right arm holding a _very_ distinctive weapon that made all the Hylians gasp in shock.

"Shit!" one of the soldiers swore in startled realization. "Gunsword, _gunsword_!"

"She's special forces!" the leader was already screaming at the same time. "Shoot, shoot, _shoot_!"

But Alexandria was _not_ waiting for them to finish any of those sentences. Already, from over the neck-locked Hylian's shoulder, the intelligence major's arm swiftly trailed from right to left, directing the aim of her gunsword from one side to another in a sweeping motion, pulling the trigger every time her sights lined up with a Hylian soldier. Hesitation cost the enemy dearly even as they debated whether or not they could get clear shots with one of their teammates as a human shield, an obstacle Alexandria did _not_ have as she efficiently gunned down three of her assailants with precise shots from her gunsword, while the fourth immediately sought cover behind a nearby tree. Alexandria replayed the last one or two seconds in her mind, determined that her aim had resulted in two headshots and one through the throat. _I'm getting sloppy_, she chastised herself. _All three had been meant for the head_.

But that was something to be concerned about on another day, perhaps when she had a chance to practice her marksmanship once more. For the time being, there were still two enemy soldiers nearby, a dilemma she quickly remedied by slitting the throat of the soldier in her hold and reducing that number to one. With another fresh body on the ground to join three corpses, that left just one more soldier, taking cover with an assault rifle behind a nearby tree.

And so Alexandria jerked off the pin on one of her hand grenades, waited for the five second fuse to count off to three, and tossed it off beside the target tree before it landed just a second later beside the Hylian hiding behind it. There was a particularly pronounced scream of "oh, shit" that was promptly cut off by an explosion with a lethal radius of five meters before the soldier could finish that last syllable.

Alexandria did not stay to confirm her kills, nor keeping both weapons in her hand even as she broke into a deft sprint back towards Fort Regner. The short firefight could possibly attracted other Hylian patrols yet to be seen, and Alexandria had no intention of having to fight more of the enemy, not when there were other great priorities at stake.

But while she took no delight or happiness in the fact that duty and survival required her to kill five Hylian men who otherwise would've done nothing to deserve death, Alexandria couldn't but admit that – after a few years of being confined to an office – the adrenaline, the rush, the demonstration that she was more of a match against five grown, trained soldiers both physically and mentally even after all this time…

…They all actually felt quite thrilling.

* * *

**Exoria File #019  
Diplomatic Cable (April 14, 1486 a.s.r.) from Hylian Ambassador to Valent Dominique to Hylian Minister of Foreign Affairs Mercer**

"To Foreign Minister Mercer:

With respect, we can no longer rely on conventional media resources as a source of reliable information on the developing situation in Valent. The networks are attuned to the administration's desire to pretend there's nothing wrong in Valent, while King Adam III is attempting to do us a diplomatic service by trying to maintain that same impression, influencing his own press as well.

Although King Adam III still enjoys popular political support, the recent protests – which virtually all media outlets have downplayed – has signified the profound effect last year's failed coup d'etat attempt has on the population. Information gathered by the DSS has suggested that the Ides of March Protests managed to bring more than 90,000 protestors to the street, not the mere 12,000 that news networks have reported. I am unoptimistic towards Valentine authorities claiming they can prevent a planned protest late this April. This does not include the near-daily protests we have outside the embassy gates; I'm aware JI has classified and censored the CCTV clips I've sent back.

King Adam III has been quite discreet on the matter, and I understand there is little you can do as foreign minister, but I am forced to agree with Lord Tacitus in his view that our own royal administration must ease foreign pressure and agree to further compromises if we are to expect Valent to uphold its international commitments or maintain its efficiency as a government. My personal suggestion is to pressure the administration into giving Valent some leeway in two key issues: The adjustment of the Valentine currency on the international market, and the renegotiation of resource rights in the Death Mountains. The common welfare of the Valentine people and decreasing living standards have become key debates in the country's politics.

With any good fortune, this should keep the ultranationalists from becoming anything but a niche party. The arrest and failed coup of General Alphonse last year has damaged their credibility, and we should be seeking this exploit this opportunity, not to give the ultranationalists more fuel. Valent suffers the most from this economic recession than any of us, and the population is very eager to justify their anger at decreasing standards of living on foreign powers, a justification that I honestly cannot say is misplaced.

The current membership of the ultranationalist Secundus Party numbers at only 65,000, and they hold only three seats in Parliament. Should current recruitment rates continue, however, my staff predicts a membership of 170,000 and possibly more than thirty seats by the end of 1487 should the situation remain unchecked. Enclosed is a report detailing the numbers and statistics, including those should the Secundus Party absorb the smaller ultranationalist parties, which I consider to be a very real possibility. Hopefully, they will give you the leeway needed to convince his Majesty King Robin II of a policy shift in regards to Valent.

I will continue to work with Lord Tacitus in regards to the developing situation.

Ambassador Dominique  
April 14, 1486 a.s.r"

* * *

Author's Note: For a good writer, humility is a good trait, and perhaps maybe a touch of jealousy. One needs to be humble enough to recognize that there are those better than you, and one needs to be jealous enough to aspire to be better than _them_. This may or may not explain why this chapter took so long to write – I've given up on trying to excuse myself on this matter, but I thought it deserved mention anyways – but it's certainly made me aware of many shortcomings I have in my plotting, shortcomings that I will eventually attempt to rectify, especially in regards to characterization, and especially in regards to a lack of any real sense of humor I may or may not have.

Again, not a lot I have to say for this chapter except that, now that Link is being deployed in the midst of the enemy once again, the Jormungand arc is pretty much going to hit full swing starting from the next chapter. If my plans are any indicator, this will most likely be the longest storyarc in _Exoria_ by virtue of…a lot of things happening, I suppose. In the meantime, let's tackle some pretty hefty reviews. On that note, actually, the last review I will tackle in this author's note is actually something from a reviewer by the name of Fiery Diamond that's quite different from all the other reviews I've had so far, so – if at all possible – I'd rather hope current readers read that, as well as my response to it, as to keep in mind what to expect from my narration in the future.

Zeldafan: _Nice! I wonder if you'll make omakes from the Valentine or Hylian POV? Your version of the Gerudo sound interesting, I still wonder how they survive as a society where 98% population is female, wouldn't there be a demographic crisis?_

I am currently in the process of working on at least one omake from a Valentine perspective, but there is a certain point in _Exoria_ where that omake will become relevant, so it will probably be a while before we get to see it. And, yes, there is a demographic crisis in Gerudo regarding the gender discrepancy, and that is why polygamy is, for the most part, accepted – and even encouraged – in Gerudo; there are too few Gerudo men around, and the only real alternative is to marry men from Hyrule or Valent. Successive breakthroughs in the domain of gene therapy and manipulation in recent years, however, have helped increase the chances of a male birth.

Ngandu the Croc: _The thing that I loved the most about this omake is the rather significant world building you built right into the chapter, something that I am glad you have again shown you are skilled enough to do while keeping the information relevant to the chapter's main action. Further insight into the dynamics of the Gerudo military, the social consequences of such a nationwide gender disparity, a look into the social dynamics of the Gerudos living their daily lives, the Gerudo air force's weaknesses bared in full, both in equipment and in its leadership's relative inexperience, as well as a great demonstration of just how significant an advantage it is for Gerudo's infantry to be so flexible out in the field. Order in chaos, loved that._

_Those flashbacks especially succeeded in making me care much more for Manee and Sira in the space of this single chapter. Again, giving us a look into their past history while at the same time keeping it relevant to the rest of the chapter's content, truly helps to enrich the dynamic between the two while making the chapter seem like it all fits together, instead of just more exposition. And having their individual flashbacks pull double duty not only as character defining bodies of text, but a look into the expectations of those born at both ends of the social ladder, hints at business dynamics for the desert dwellers, factors which affect family dynamics and military advancement, and just a bunch of little things. I mean, some of the information you supplied could very easily been guessed at, but sometimes putting that information out there helps to humanize the characters. But just knowing that Manee is a high school drop out, instead of just assuming she finished school and joined the military afterwards, makes her easier to relate to as a character rather than just a name on a page. The fact that Sira relies on Manee so much to keep herself stable puts that little scene of yours at the beginning of the chapter between the two in a much different light. Really do love how much perceptions can change with just a few well placed words, a constant reminder that "A certain point of view." is more than just a simple excuse. Really wouldn't mind seeing these two again if you decide to do so._

_I will tell you however, that Manee's line desperate shout to open the hatch was really well done. Combined with the previous sentences building up to that point, it was the point where I really felt that they were completely screwed unless they got moving THAT VERY SECOND. _

_And then a few seconds later, you blow up their plane. Of course you had to do something with all that build up._

_As for your depiction of the unit in combat, I can tell you that it was actually rather well done. You kept the fighting dynamic and interesting, and you made sure to show that they worked for their progress. The military lingo seemed believable enough for a layman like me, and I do appreciate that you actually took the time to do research to enhance the quality of the Foxtrot unit's interactions. Although I've gotta say... I just can't take anything with a code name like 'Wild Weasel' seriously, even if it is the equivalent of calling down the wrath of God on your enemies. But I won't hold it against you, goodness knows real life militaries have come up with some rather ridiculous code names._

_Also, although I did feel a bit sorry for Aki, Jennifer's death, after such a short time knowing her, didn't really affect me much. It definitely made the situation feel much more serious though. Don't think you wanted any significant emotional response from that though. People do die in war, and not in the blaze of glory people in battle would hope for if they had a choice. Her death was able to make that perfectly clear, and help us keep in mind that superweapon or no superweapon, there is still a very bloody conflict going on, and no cleverly written and well implemented plot armour to help the grunts._

_You really do seem to have a knack for world building, which I know I've mentioned before, but it bears repeating. _

_Thank you for another wonderful read. I look forward to the next installment, and I believe that I will keep myself satisfied with whatever small nuggets of Link/Ganondorf interaction you give us until you're ready to show your hand. I guess its for the best really, I would hate for the story to suffer purely for the sake of fan service._

_And thanks for giving me even more to consider as I read through your story. Speculation can be fun..._

_Peace._

I really must admit, being my most consistent submitters of lengthy, thoughtful reviews as of late, I often find myself eager to see a review signed either by The Pilot or yourself, and it generally makes my day when the email notifying that you've submitted a review finally arrives in my inbox. I thought you should know.

I'm really quite happy to see that you've enjoyed the omake, and that you've found Manee and Sira easy to sympathize with. Given that _Exoria_, like most other _Legend of Zelda_ stories, canon or fan fiction, center largely on Link's immediate allies and enemies (and, of course, primarily Link himself), I felt it only fair to try developing narrative from other directions. I actually _do_ have a very strong inclination for world building – which is to say that I _like_ it, not necessarily I'm _excellent_ at it – something that shows up when I roleplay (yes, I sometimes do some roleplaying), so I admit I'm somewhat used to developing settings and having individuals fit into that setting. But, that said, I must admit that I, too, hope Manee and Sira will show up sometime in the future as well, and not – as Buta, another reviewer, has mentioned – as names on a casualty list.

As I may or may not have already mentioned, Wild Weasel is not a name I created, but the _actual_ codename for planes designated for SEAD operations by the United States of America. So, yes, as you have mentioned, real life militaries sometimes come up with truly strange codenames. And, yes, I fear Jennifer's death wasn't meant to generate an emotional response, only the realization that – indeed – even likeable named characters can die in _Exoria_, just as they often do in reality. I try to keep this under control for dramatic purposes, but sometimes I feel it's necessary to drive in the point.

And, yes, of _course_ I had to blow up a plane. Any aerial transport carrying infantry – especially the viewpoint characters – over a live combat zone in such media has something of a seventy-five percent chance of being shot down. (Disclaimer: This is not an actual statistic, only poking fun at how often helicopters your characters get into in first-person shooter games get shot down nowadays in game such as _Modern Warfare_ or _Call of Duty_.)

Thank you again for your hefty review; I eagerly look forward to the next one.

Buta: _Back again. Interesting to see an omake in the lineup, although the author's note at the top just reminded me of how much I wanted to see the removed joke chapter._

_Just to get this out of the way, I would find a Mass Effect fic interesting, but that's partly because it's the canon I'm most familiar with out of the ones mentioned._

_I've noticed that there seem to be more typographical errors than usual in the latest chapters. It isn't too bad, but it can be a little disruptive. If I weren't so lazy, I might offer to give the fic an additional beta reading, and I swear that isn't just because I want to read future chapters ahead of schedule. At least, not entirely._

_"Quantum of solace"? I think I see what you did there. Spot-the-possible-reference aside, I rather liked the new characters. Hopefully, they'll show up again, and not as names on a Gerudo casualty list._

_Going back to previous chapters, I really hope Ganondorf doesn't turn out to be the Big Bad. Especially with all the foreshadowing already in place, it would be so much more fun to see the expected outcome thoroughly subverted by something like Link fighting alongside him for the first time in centuries, possibly millennia (I can't remember whether you ever specified just how long it's been since the canon 'timeline') of pseudo-reincarnation - without even a major backstabbing immediately afterward. I wonder what Emi's up to, though, and who exactly the giant boomerang girl is._

_The political aspects are interesting, if a bit (naturally) convoluted. All the unanswered questions are a little hard on my spoiler-loving, admittedly impatient nature, though._

_On a few unrelated notes, I still want that "Hey! Listen!" from Durandara somewhere down the line. One thing I can't remember being mentioned is the existence (or nonexistence) of the *creatures* from the old Zeldas. Octoroks, Peahats, Tektites, and the like appear to make up the land's fauna even without factoring in magic, but I don't think I've seen any in the story so far. I would expect at least some species to have survived through the ages. (In a slightly sillier context, I must therefore wonder if Link will have any dodongos to bomb, or if anyone will ever be hungry enough to eat an octorok.)_

_As far as Jormungand's destruction... GIANT MIRROR. Actually, no, that's a silly idea. My guess is as good as everyone else's in this case. Regarding power sources, my pet theory is still something along the lines of "Valent found one of those sets of three magical artifacts available in the series and used them to power their giant death robots". Not the Triforce, but any of the lesser artifacts that happen to come in threes._

_Overall, excellent work as usual. Now, back to killing time until the next update - again, the worst part of a good fic is the wait in between chapters. That seems to be especially true now that I have access to a large widescreen monitor again - the chapters seem so much shorter when they're on a screen this oversized._

The April Fool's chapter will go up one day for all those who missed it, really. It will probably either be Omake Two or Omake Three.

I apologize greatly for the latest batch of typos. As you may have been able to surmise by the unimpressive frequency of my updates as of late, you've probably realized that I have been suffering through both repeated writer's blocks and real life issues as of late. Trying to get eighteen pages up has sometimes becomes quite daunting and a true battle of willpower, something that I eventually try to make up for with bursts of progress. Unfortunately, trying to get chapters up as soon as possible because I've delayed far too long often leads to mistakes that you've undoubtedly already seen. I managed a read-through of Omake One a few weeks ago and corrected several errors I had made; I'm fairly certain that there are still a few more out there that I missed, but I do hope this will make it on future readers (as well as those who wish to re-read it).

In terms of characters, I do agree with you: As I have told Ngandu the Croc, I like Manee and Sira as well, and I do hope they appear again and "not as names on a Gerudo casualty list", as you have said. As I have always been mentioning this, you've probably already figured out that what Ganondorf and Emi are up to are fairly large spoilers, and I'm jealous of my secrets. (If it's any comfort, I _do_ know exactly what they're up to, so I'm doing my best to make eventual reveals – whether or not they are the reveals you're _expecting_ – to resemble something that _isn't_ an ass pull.) The giant boomerang girl will play at least a somewhat important role; that's something I'm willing to say right now, so keep an eye out for her. (That also gives you an idea of her minimum life expectancy, doesn't it?) Also, to answer another question, no, the traditional monsters of_ The Legend of Zelda_ aren't in the posted chapters, in case you're wondering whether or not you've missed them.

As for Jormungand and whatever is powering the Valentine superweapons…well, you may or may not be surprised by the answer. (Which, honestly, is an answer as good as "I'm not telling", isn't it…?)

Thank you very much for the review; I hope to see more from you soon as the chapters continue to go up.

Fiery Diamond: _And so, with a single bullet and an unashamed, snide, (expletive-deleted) attitude, you have ensured that I will no longer read your story. Congratulations._

_Someone on forums recommended this story, so I came to check it out. Although I know nothing of modern military or weapons and have little interest in briefings and military meetings, I found this modern take on Zelda to be rather interesting. I enjoyed your Link (who is very different from most portrayals of Link I have seen) and liked the amount of effort you put into fleshing out your world. Some of the things you did were a bit heavy-handed and, in my opinion, obnoxious (such as the apparent assumption that modern automatically means less religious and more atheistic, including this notion that religion morphs to fit whatever the current time feels like), but Special Ops Link was a pretty interesting idea. I loved the whole Epona motorcycle, which I know was going to happen. You do a good job of creating suspense, even if a lot of the numbers and jargon tend to get in the way for me. Your action scenes are very vivid._

_You do have a few issues with your writing, though most of them are very minor. One that constantly annoyed me was your use of "anyways." The correct word is "anyway," and including that "s" in the narrative was irksome. Even more jarring, however, was including the "s" in the speech of people who are supposed to be intelligent. It automatically makes them sound dumber._

_Anyway, back to the initial opening. Yes, I'm talking about you killing off that girl. More specifically, I'm talking about you behaving like a self-righteous, arrogant, puffed-up (expletive-deleted) about it in the author's notes. While the actual inclusion of that in the story was ALMOST enough to make me quit reading, your attitude left me with no desire whatsoever to have anything to do with you. If I want a lecture on how the (expletive-deleted) REAL WORLD works, I'll ask for it. I read stories to GET AWAY FROM THAT, thankyouverymuch. I know that the real world is a hellhole, why in the name of anything would I want to include that in a story whose sole purpose is to provide entertainment just to make it "realistic?" Your whole little speech about not following the rules of modern media because "that's not the way the real world works" is infuriating._

_I hope that someday you gain this thing we call a heart. We don't read fantasy-based fiction to learn about how war is meaningless hell. If you derive some kind of sick, twisted enjoyment out of writing a story like that, you obviously don't have this thing called a heart._

First off, thank you for your review. Although you disagreed with what I have written, I am nevertheless glad that you chose to express it in a well-worded, thoughtful review instead of remaining silent (although, at the same time, I had rather hoped it would be more civilly-worded). Your main point is something that would be a bit hefty to tackle, so let me address your other points first.

I will note that _Exoria_ is a work of fiction in a very much fictional world. While I am indeed agnostic – I do not believe that the divine can either be proved or disproved – I do not believe that I have gone out of my way to expressly say that religion undoubtedly changes with the time in the real world, even though historical social data does lead us to believe that our modern-day population is comparatively more secular compared to more antiquated times; compare, for example, 17th century Europe to modern day Europe. Not everyone is very much atheist, though; Gerudo generally believes in Dinah, while Zelda has made at least one passing mention to the goddesses. As I have mentioned, the Zelda games and canon form the very distant backstory to _Exoria_, and there are actually very important reasons as to why culture has changed so much (it has something to do with what "a.s.r.", the calendar system used on the continent, stands for) but – again – I guard my secrets jealously.

"Anyways" is a bit of a verbal tic – if one can call it that – that I've never been quite able to get rid of for one reason or another, the same reason why I have not been able to break the habit of typing "moreorless" instead of simply "more or less". With any luck, I'll be able to get past this at some point in the future, but – until then – I fear readers will just have to forgive my shortcoming in this regard.

Now, to tackle your main issue at hand: I do not believe that fiction is meant to be happy by default. I believe that fiction is meant to exercise the imagination, but imagination itself does not automatically default to "happiness" or "despair", nor does it default to idealism or cynicism. Fiction is what we make it out to be, and is limited only by the extent of our imaginations. If you had been misled into believing that _Exoria_ was going to be a story where good unconditionally prevails, where there would be no tragic casualties or pointless sacrifices, then you have my condolences; this is not such a story. I will say first that, on the Sliding Scale of Idealism Versus Cynicism, this story is not at all leaning very far into the cynical side. At the same time, these things simply happen. Lily died most likely not because someone decided to shoot a child, but simply because someone was trying to shoot the enemy on the other side of the street, and she happened to have been in the way of a bullet that was fired by a soldier at which other people were shooting at. This is modern war, and if you cannot accept fiction in which there is no collateral damage, then I do apologize; _Exoria_ is indeed not for you, and I would not recommend you read further (although I do not have immediate plans of killing off anymore young children on-screen).

But while I may have sounded heavy-handed in explaining – perhaps poorly – as to how and why I have subverted expectations in the author's notes (trying to get Buddy and Lily out of Fort Regner may have seemed like a basic _Legend of Zelda_ sidequest that was predestined to succeed, but I had Link fail at it instead), I do not take pleasure in killing off characters. I do not enjoy working in clichés, but that doesn't mean I enjoy subverting them in cruel ways. I believe this is the source of your misunderstanding; if I was delighted at allowing Lily to die, I likely would not have either Link or Durandara be shaken up over it immediately after Lily's death, nor would I likely have had Link and Durandara feel guilty about the whole affair and lying about what actually did happen to Lily to Sergeant James afterwards to spare her parents about this knowledge during the tragedy that is war. These kinds of events leave lasting impressions some people, even a young Joint Intelligence agent like Link, or even an artificial intelligence such as Durandara. Fiction or reality, bad things happen. They are essential to both drama and character development. This was the message I wished to convey, regardless of whether or not I have a heart (I'd certainly like to believe I do, though).

I personally do hope that this reply may have cleared up any misunderstandings, and I hope you may continue to read and enjoy _Exoria_. However, if these themes are still something you are unable to accept, if you are still aversive to futile and tragic deaths, then – yes – it would likely be better if you stop reading _Exoria_. For better or for ill, fan fiction is a form of entertainment, and if it ceases to be such for you, then there are better things you can do with your time. Regardless, thank you for choosing to submit a thoughtful review.


	21. Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen**

It wasn't a Hylian ship, but at least it wasn't a Valentine vessel, and thank goodness it wasn't a Gerudo plane. Allowing the warm breeze of the ocean to brush pleasantly across his face, Link stood on the rear deck of the Gerudo destroyer _Glorious_, leaning forward against the railing as his eyes gazed upon their distant continent shrouded in darkness. A crescent moon hung in the sky as it was reflected by the Serenes Ocean, its visage turning into sparkles of light with the hull of the _Glorious_ – running dark with no exterior light turned on, a phantom in the darkness – cutting through the water like a knife, waves rolling gently off and crashing as the vessel quietly made its way towards the nautical border that separated the southern Serenes Ocean from the Northern Aurora.

Link needed that peace of mind. He needed the gentle nocturnal lunar night, the splashes of the waves, the tranquil oceans, the gentle rocking of the ship that swung to and fro like a cradle. If only for a day, it was an opportunity for him to turn off his brain, find some inner peace, distract himself from the fact that things were spiraling down in ways that were beyond his control…and very possibly beyond the comprehension of a mere intelligence agent who did not have the full picture.

Link needed that peace of mind. It was probably what saved him from Anansi in the first place.

Despite clear reluctance and suspicion on part of himself and Durandara, Link had ultimately agreed with Emi's assessment that they needed to act _now_. That Emi was insanely prepared for his acceptance only fueled that paranoia; within three hours, Link – having changed back into his Valentine special forces fatigues – had been escorted to a waiting helicopter almost immediately afterwards, subjected to an in-flight briefing, landed at Samani Military Airbase to immediately be driven precisely two hundred meters across the runway to a waiting fixed-wing military transport aircraft that flew him and Epona to a civilian airport in the town of Nahwa that had fallen under military command, before they were put into another helicopter _again_ that eventually took him to Naval Base Nahwa and the waiting _Glorious_. No sooner had Link and Epona set foot on the ship, the _Glorious_ was setting sail and moving northwards towards the Aurora Ocean, preparing to insert him into Hyrule from the east coast, a move Emi had explained had the best chance of seeing him arriving in Hyrule safely.

When Link had given her a skeptical look, Emi reminded the Joint Intelligence agent that taking a plane to New Wagner had been _Zelda's_ idea, not anyone on Gerudo's military staff; the crown princess was the one who wanted to sacrifice survivability for alacrity. "She had her reasons," Emi had said dispassionately, making it questionable as to whether she approved of Zelda's gutsiness or viewed her lack of military sense with contempt.

Approaching booted footsteps attracted Link's attention, and he turned just slightly to see a familiar figure, which developed into a familiar visage as she came closer and her face cleared in the darkness, assisted by a faint, nearby light. "The captain says the _Glorious _is traveling at maximum speed, and we'll reach the insertion point tomorrow evening," said the officer who had stopped politely at a respectful distance of a meter away from Link. "You should probably get some rest until then."

Link merely nodded nonchalantly, and did his best to suppress a sigh as he was forced to consider yet another element in all this wheels-within-wheels spiraling around him.

Major Jessica. Having disappeared four nights ago from Fort Garuda with only an explanation that MICO temporarily needed her elsewhere – with MICO filling that gap left in the Hylian delegation's security with one Captain Michaela – the young military intelligence officer had suddenly appeared before Link within minutes of his boarding the _Glorious_. Emi's doing, no doubt; it was then that Link saw a major piece of the "big picture" then, realizing why Jessica had been gone for four days straight. He wouldn't admit it, but the Joint Intelligence agent honestly felt a bit uncomfortable, as if his trust had somehow been betrayed, even if unwillingly.

Link sighed, shook his head to Jessica's quiet confusion. He couldn't think like that; it wasn't Jessica's fault. She was as much a pawn as Link was.

Although it seemed that it was an end that _that _exchange, Jessica continued to awkwardly stand there for a moment. Link wondered if the major wanted to apologize about how the Joint Intelligence agent was being sent to Hyrule under such circumstances – only six days ago had he been dispatched from Fort Garuda like this to destroy Anansi, yet here he was again, a lone Joint Intelligence agent being sent to do _something _about Jormungand – but knew she could not actually do so while dressed in the robes of MICO.

Emi had not specifically said so, and the in-flight briefing Link received from Fort Garuda to Samani Military Airbase avoided the word while using "liaison" instead, but Link knew that Jessica was being unofficially designated as his handler, for better or for worse. Emi was keeping as many tabs as she could on this operation.

The sound of waves drowned out the sound of Jessica sighing, and even Link found himself surprised as she joined him at the railing, staring too at an oceanic horizon that was barely visible this late at night. Despite his misgivings about the situation at hand, despite his realization that Jessica may be the piece that MICO had set against him, Link couldn't help but feel that her presence was welcome.

"Where is it you will return to when this is all over?" Jessica asked; Link couldn't help note that, purposefully or not, there was a slightly poetic, almost archaic way by which the MICO major formed her sentences. Maybe she was lapsing into her more professional persona again, something to cope with the stress from being used by her superiors.

That aside, however, the Joint Intelligence agent carefully considered the question. Logically, the first place he'd have to report back to after the war was over was Hyrule City, back to Joint Intelligence headquarters…no, back to Hyrule Palace, if he was still expected to serve as Crown Princess Zelda's interim bodyguard. But even that was a maybe. They'd have to win the war first. They'd have to find some order amongst all this chaos.

And so when Link gave a shrug of uncertainty, Jessica seemed genuinely confused. "Do you not have a family waiting?"

No, he didn't, and the faux Valentine special forces first lieutenant made that clear with an indifferent shake of his head. He had never been one to consider how fortunate children with parents were, nor had he ever really complained about his lot in life. He was raised in a well-to-do orphanage – that was enough of a blessing, given the alternatives – cared for by the Spencer Welfare Program, and eventually scouted, trained, and hired by Joint Intelligence. In a way, Link _supposed_ Joint Intelligence was the closest thing he had to a family…but even he wasn't _that_ naïve to believe that an intelligence organization dealing with lies and treachery really saw a sense of camaraderie with each other, never mind family ties.

And, as if realizing she may have stepped on some toes there, Jessica bowed her head, murmured, "I apologize."

Link's shrug plainly told he did not mind.

A navy seawoman – either taking a stroll or making a round across the ship's deck – passed by, saluting both Link and Jessica as she did so, continued on after the major saluted back.

Jessica leaned back against the railing, tilting her head back so her gaze was riveted upon the moon, a contrast to Link's leaning forward with her eyes settled on the dark, distant horizon. It was cool out here in the seas, a contrast to the searing climate in Gerudo; it would only get colder the further they traveled north. The Joint Intelligence agent spared a glance at Jessica if only to assess her current state of mind, found himself looking first at the major's thin, shapely waist and thighs, the modest robes of MICO doing nothing to hide the muted curves. A truly feminine form, tempered by what was likely the diminutive stature of her heritage, but complemented by the wholesomeness of her sex. Link found himself looking away almost immediately after, suppressing any expression from forming on his face, thankful that Durandara – who was undoubtedly watching the conversation in silence – could not read minds.

"Have you ever been to Azuri?" Jessica suddenly asked; her gaze at the moon remained unmoved.

Link shook his head and refrained from looking at Jessica again, but he knew of the place, if only by reputation. It was a Gerudo province, one of the richer administrative divisions of Gerudo that was also a popular tourist destination for Hylians due to its beautiful natural scenery, and classic native architecture and nature.

"I was born in Garuda," whispered Jessica gently, "but my family holds the province of Azuri, and I lived there for most of my childhood." She turned around, leaned forward on the railing as Link did, and the Joint Intelligence agent – tactful enough to understand the mood in conversation – looked towards the MICO major, her brown eyes probing Link's darkened sunglasses for any sign of the Hylian's blue ones. "One day, when this is all over, I will take you to there. There are…reasons why I would not wish to go back now, but, one day, I will take you there. The Righteous Tyrant called it in 'Gem of the Sands' in the seventh century when he conquered it for the Dvin Dynasty."

Link gave Jessica an amused look, almost smiled; his repertoire on ancient Gerudo history was not polished at all, but he somehow found that the words "righteous" and "tyrant" were generally not two words one found together in a single term, especially in historic retrospect by a democratic society.

That look did not go unnoticed, and Jessica – understanding the nuances in Interlingua well enough – managed a small, gentle smile herself. "It's a Gerudo title that has no perfect translation to Interlingua," she explained. "Translators chose to use the word 'tyrant' to convey a sense that he was not merely just the monarch of a country, but the undisputed, unchallenged, all-powerful leader of a great dynasty." The tone of the voice seemed to suggest that she was in awe, and that her sentiments were likely to be shared by many who considered the Righteous Tyrant a legendary historical figure. "By most accounts, he was a kind and chivalrous man. His hegemony across the desert did not directly create the Gerudo Union, but it indirectly led to it by establishing its foundations."

A founding father, then, if not _the_ founding father. Given what Link knew about Gerudo culture and history, there were probably religious connotations behind it as well. But he found nothing wrong with that; the history of the continent – Gerudo, Hyrule, and Valent were all suspect – was shrouded in myth and legend. Link knew enough of Hylian history to understand that even its own citizens had tried to venerate their own forefathers as divine beings in the past.

"Azuri's a beautiful place," Jessica continued, her words somehow carrying the lofty, dreamlike quality of reminiscence, the quality of her voice almost songlike, "blessed with a natural network of oases with water so pure it glitters in the sun while you can see the bottom, small forests of rare blossom trees that draw oasis water from underground and shed beautiful pink petals that are carried through the air by gentle winds, the famous Sandsea with its shifting colored sands like waves moving to and from shore on a gentle night."

Link had heard of all this, if only through common tourist knowledge of what there was to see around the world. Hearing it come from someone who had lived there throughout most of her life, however – hearing it come from _Jessica_, however – made him feel as if he could visualize the scene, the imagery, as if he were just standing right there amidst the beauty.

Jessica smiled at her Hylian counterpart; it was a childlike, girlish smile, embarrassed and awkward in its innocence, but warm – Link could practically feel it flush against his face – in its kindness. "It may be little beyond a foolish pride for my homeland," she murmured, but her voice did not lose the strength of its conviction, "but it's just about all I can offer you: The beauty of a country at peace. My home when it is not at war."

Slowly, Link nodded, gently smiled back. For a pair of pawns at war, it was as good as any wish they could ask for.

* * *

With evident frustration, Major Steven of the 1st Special Investigative Unit sighed as he dropped into a nearby chair while there was _still_ a chair to sit on. Valentine forces were retreating, and friendlies were beginning to pull everything out with military efficiency, soldiers, officers, wounded, weapons, vehicles, documents, computers, tents, and – indeed – chairs. Fort Regner was no longer a defensible position, and Valentine morale was sinking, obviously aware that they were now quietly slinking away with their tail between their legs while the remnants of local Hylian resistance were now harassing them from all sides and Gerudo forces were accumulating an offensive force to the south of the border.

They weren't military intelligence, but they weren't stupid. In the face of every soldier and every officer that marched and ran around him as they attended to the pullout, Steven could see that the muscle of the Valentine military – in the face of the news, the rumors, and suspicions of how the entire war was suddenly going for them – was beginning to learn just how much losing Anansi had cost them.

Steven wondered just exactly how much use the 1st Special Investigative Unit was to the war effort; even if they _did_ manage to prevent the destruction of Jormungand or Quetzalcoatl – assuming that the enemy would even be brazen enough to make _another_ attempt – it was debatable how much good it would do them all. In fact, even as he sighed at his absolute lack of progress in the investigation, his arrival here at Fort Regner another roadblock in his efforts, he wondered how much use _he_ was to the 1st SIU. It had been four days since the formation of the 1st Special Investigative Unit, yet here he was. Alexandria had already submitted a revised set of protocols for special forces to ensure any infiltrators masquerading as one of them would have a difficult time, and Juno couldn't be reached, indicating she had gone deep. Four days, and his co-workers had done so much work, yet Steven had absolutely nothing to show for it.

He sighed; the major was tired. Flying around the continent, forgoing sleep, just as he was now, arriving in Fort Regner in the dead of night, only to realize there was nothing here for him to find anymore, and any investigative efforts cut short by the mass retreat. It wasn't that Steven regretted this – he knew what he signed up for and he was proud to serve his country, regardless of sacrifices to his own personal well-being – but the fact that he was making no progress bothered him to no end. There were more questions than answers, Majors Alexandria and Juno kept answering the important questions before Steven could even get to them, and evidence was now either disappearing or somehow being protected by an authority that he was getting a hard time to circumvent through the powers invested in him by the National Defense Committee.

Again, Steven sighed, swiveling his head and looking around, seeing the legions of soldiers filing to and fro, a once-proud outpost and salient being reduced to an abandoned Hylian ghost town. Sounds of distant gunfire filled the air as soldiers on the main line of resistance warded off sporadic Gerudo patrols from the south clearly sent to harass them, while anti-aircraft guns and missiles occasionally fired at aircraft that flew too close. Apparently, Gerudo had confirmed that there was no civilian population left in Fort Regner, and all forms of ordinance were being authorized. An air-to-ground missile had detonated no less than two city blocks away from where he had stepped out of a helicopter when he first landed in Fort Regner.

Turning back around and raising his arms in preparation to stretch, Steven froze in his seat as he laid his eyes upon an approaching familiar figure wearing an officer's uniform that was very much tainted with drying blood that was beginning to crest on the sleeves and chest

Quite a lot of blood, in fact; Steven wondered why the officer hadn't collapsed from anemia yet.

It was at that same moment that Major Alexandria, too, noticed Steven's presence – or, at the very least, recognized the officer who had been turning around in his seat as a colleague from the 1st Special Investigative Unit. They were of the same rank, but Steven somehow felt a compelling need to stand at attention, which he did. "Major Alexandria," he gave a quick, almost awkward nod of his head.

"Major Steven," Alexandria nodded back stoically, almost lazily. She didn't seem bothered at all by the fact that her uniform was stained with blood, moving instead to a nearby fold-up table that hadn't been dismantled yet, rifled through a cardboard box, and found – to her pleasure – a bottle of water which she immediately uncapped and drank from.

The fact that Alexandria seemed to have no strong reaction to all that blood unsettled Steven a bit. "Is that…" the male intelligence major ventured cautiously, "…your blood?"

Alexandria blinked, removed the bottle from her lips, looked down at her unfirom. That was actually a good question. Getting away from armed Hylian soldiers had definitely been more important at the time, but now that she was back on the Valentine side of the MLR, Alexandria swiftly checked her arms and wherever there was blood for injuries. For the most part, however, she found no cuts or holes that she had not been aware of during the adrenaline rush when she had taken out a Hylian squad, so the major surmised that the blood was likely from the throat of the soldier she had slit. "Apparently not," she replied blandly, giving a polite nod to Steven as a respectful sign in response to his apparent concern, although she was also swift to change the subject. "You're dangerously close to the MLR."

"We're pulling out, I know," Steven nodded. "I just needed to try and try to gather some intelligence from the local salvaging team, but…" His expression turned into one of almost awkward embarrassment.

Alexandria didn't need much elaboration on that point. "You ran into an A-17," she nodded, almost more to herself than to Steven, who nodded a bit reluctantly. After a moment of thought, she poured some of the water onto her hands, allowing her to wash off the blood that was already dried there, producing a handheld computer from her pockets afterwards. "Linking to your PDA."

Steven hurriedly produced his own handheld computer to accept a transmission request from Alexandria, showing his obvious surprise when what seemed to be a plethora of text and image files began to copy itself wireless into his own device.

After eighteen seconds of transfer, all performed in what Steven considered to be awkward silence, the download completed itself, and Alexandria slipped her handheld computer back into her pocket, explaining, "This is all the data I have so far."

"Oh." Now Steven was even more surprised, almost stunned. His impression of Alexandria had been something of a lone wolf incapable of team play; her generosity was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. "Um…thank you."

Alexandria merely nodded, took another gulp from the water bottle. "If you're going to look around here, be quick about it," she said after swallowing. "We're all pulling out."

"Where are you going, major?"

"To the helicopters. I don't think there's anything else here I can use."

Steven took the initiative; given how fast everyone in the unit seemed to move and how often they dropped out of contact, this could be his only rare chance to ask. "We could cooperate, Major Alexandria," he offered. "Coordinate investigations faster, brainstorm…"

But Alexandria regarded him with a look that was similar to that same look she had given him back at the Castle in Velvet when he first made that same suggestion in the elevator. "I work better alone," she repeated. "I said that back at the Castle."

Frustration got the better of him, and although Steven immediately regretted the words that came out of his mouth afterwards, he couldn't quite catch himself as he stated, "Major Juno said she's worked with you before."

Alexandria found three ways to interpret that sentence, decided she would not choose among them until Steven clarified what he meant. "She has," the major allowed coolly.

Alexandria's coolness and seemingly deliberate dispassion towards the issue did not go unnoticed by her colleague; Steven was inexperienced, not stupid. "Do the two of you have some kind of history?"

"Not really."

Steven wasn't really sure he believed that answer. "I'm getting the feeling that there might be some antagonistic…"

"Major Steven," Alexandria suddenly interrupted; she did not change either her expression, her posture, or her tone of voice, but for some ungodly reason, Steven felt as if the ambient temperature had suddenly dropped by several degrees, and he immediately fell silent. "Officers in military intelligence tend to live longer when they ask fewer questions."

He would've thought it was impossible, but Steven practically felt his throat _click_ shut as he unsuccessfully fought a nervous gulp.

Calmly taking another drink of water, the female military intelligence major leisurely drained the bottle of its contents before – again changing neither expression, posture, or tone – concluded, "I'm joking."

It took Steven a full four seconds to chuckle awkwardly, uneasily; he really couldn't tell four seconds ago, and he really couldn't tell now.

"You're a military intelligence officer," Alexandria simply and dispassionately finished as she tossed the water bottle into a nearby box; she had no idea whether or not anyone would bother to actually throw those bottles away, but Valentine social etiquette of not littering was difficult to break even when on enemy territory in wartime. "I shouldn't be giving you preconceptions, and you shouldn't form them. Believe not what you hear, but what you see. Do what you need to get the job done. Do what others aren't doing, and do what only you can do. It's why you were put on the 1st SIU." With that, she gave Steven a curt nod, a mutter of "major" as a farewell, and strode over to the helicopters that were already beginning to spin their propellers in preparation for leaving Fort Regner.

Watching Alexandria's retreating back disappear into the bustle of military activity, Steven quietly contemplated exactly what the other major was suggesting, trying to piece together the tidbits that had both been said and left unsaid. It was only minutes after that Steven finally turned from where he had been standing and made his way to the helicopters leaving Fort Regner as well. He, too, needed to get a move on.

* * *

Despite the turbulence and the unsettling shaking of the aircraft, Zelda had been dozing off in her seat when the sound of approaching boots gently shook at her attention, a subconscious realization that someone was approaching and the deliberateness of that pace indicated it was possibly a message for her. Her eyelids slowly and lazily fluttering open, she tilted her head upwards just in time to see one of the members of the Gerudo aircrew – the name eluded the crown princess at the moment, but she spotted the insignia of a warrant officer – gently stopping beside her, bracing herself against the shaking aircraft hull as a hand reached out to grab at the back of the seat in front of Zelda.

"The Hylian air force has scrambled two fighters to escort us to New Wagner, your Highness," the warrant officer said just loudly enough to allow her voice to be heard over the engines. "If you keep an eye out the windows, you should see them pulling up in a few minutes."

"Thank you," murmured Zelda tiredly, rubbing her eyes after the warrant officer had returned to her station. Despite the inner excitement she had felt when solid contact with Hylian forces had finally been made two hours ago by the Gerudo aircrew, and Hylian forces confirmed an air corridor the Gerudo transport plane could fly through, fatigue had got the better of the crown princess, and Zelda had decided to close her eyes for a bit.

She ran the situation through her head swiftly: They were on a Gerudo military transport plane on Zelda's personal request, their destination New Wagner, the only confirmed Hylian military rally point she knew of. The subdued light of the sky through the window indicated it was morning; they had been flying for more than half a day already, having been forced to take several roundabout routes to avoid enemy forces and find a safe way to their destination. Seated on the right column of seats on the plane – the Gerudo transport plane was meant for ferrying large amounts of troops, and looked like a pragmatic, bare-bones version of a commercial airliner – Zelda found Impa and Leonore seated on the left columns right across the aisle.

"Good morning, your Highness," Impa greeted with a smile, which attracted Leonore's attention as she looked up from a stack of documents in her hand and over a pair of reading glasses.

"How long was I out?" Zelda asked, finally dropping her hands from her eyes and giving a rapid series of blinks to clear the blur from her vision.

"Just a bit more than an hour. How are you feeling?"

"In serious need of some coffee," groaned the crown princess, stretching in her seat and quite happy no one else was nearby to see her do so. The temptation to ask the aircrew if they actually stowed coffee on the plane like actual commercial aircraft lingered in her mind strongly, but Zelda suppressed that urge. Her vision finally clearing entirely, she stared at the two older women, frowned. "I never see the two of you sleep."

From the far left, Leonore smirked briskly. "Impa and I," declared the director of Hylian Joint Intelligence, "are getting close to the point in our very long lives where we'll have more time than we'll ever need to sleep." The grin from the sardonic joke turned into a kinder smile. "It can wait, your Highness."

A tight expression forming around Zelda's face hinted at some displeasure at Leonore's gallows humor, but no retort was given before the intercom of the plane came on, broadcasting the vaguely familiar voice of Gerudo air force Captain Kim from the cockpit. "Princess Zelda, radar is showing Hylian jets pulling up on both sides; if you look out the windows, you should see them in just a few seconds."

The princess quickly unbuckled the seatbelt to her aisle seat, slid over to the window seat and peered out the glass. Sure enough, a short moment later, a gray Hylian fighter jet – short nosed and just a bit fatter than the leaner designs of more modern fighter aircraft – appeared from behind and below, gaining enough altitude and speed to line up just a hundred meters off the transport plane's right wing before decelerating to match heading and velocity.

"Raptures," Zelda murmured, recognizing the plane model.

"_Rapture_, your Highness," Leonore corrected; again, a brisk smirk had crossed her lips, and she leaned back in her seat to give everyone else an unhindered view out the port window she sat beside. "There's a Nemesis on this side."

From her angle, Zelda couldn't see the other fighter jet through the small window on the other side, but Impa could, frowning as she did so. "That our escorts are a pair of incredibly outdated fighters does not bode well," she muttered worriedly; she was just old enough to recall that both models had been put into service more than three decades ago.

But the crown princess did not seem disheartened as she turned around to look out her own window once more, murmuring just loud enough for the other two to hear, "General Anders had remarked to me once how embarrassed he felt looking at our outdated third-generation jets still resting in military hangars because the Senate refused to increase the air force budget." Unseen to Impa and Leonore but understood through tone of voice, Zelda smiled, "Now, I can't express how glad I am to see them."

Impa and Leonore exchanged soft, wizened, understanding smiles.

The warrant officer returned from the rear, stopping just beside the Hylians in their seats. "We're beginning our landing now," she explained as she swiftly bent over and to ensure that everyone's seatbelts were securely fastened. Noting that she had unbuckled her seatbelt to get a better view at the Rapture fighter jet out her window, Zelda quickly rectified that. "Please remain in your seats until the aircraft safely comes to a stop."

It was a full twenty minutes later that the Gerudo airplane finally touched down on the tarmac and landed, thirty-five thousand kilograms of desert-weathered aircraft slowly coming to a stop as it turned down from the runway of what remained of New Wagner's civilian airport – now repurposed into a military one – to what looked very much like a rather small convoy of waiting Hylian soldiers beside a single humvee, standing smartly in line. It was only after the plane stopped beside that formation of Hylian soldiers that the Gerudo aircrew helped the Hylian delegation out of their seats, handling their baggage as well, leading them to the rear of the aircraft.

It was as the aircraft door hissed and popped open, a small metallic staircase extending out the transport plane's low body to the ground, that Zelda stepped out for the first time in almost two entire weeks onto Hylian soil, a sovereign returning to her own country. Immediately, the line of Hylian soldiers, a collection of what seemed to be army infantrymen and air force officers snapped to attention as soon as the crown princess – preceded only by a Gerudo aircrew member who had set up the exit in the first place, and followed immediately by Impa and Leonore – touched down on the ground, saluting smartly in unison against a backdrop of a smoking, bleeding Hylian metropolis in the background, hurting yet still defiantly standing in the face of overwhelming opposition.

Despite never having been one for military ceremony and protocol as a civilian leader, Zelda could think of no better gesture than to salute back for the first time in her tenure as national sovereign. It was a heartwarming moment…one that was surpassed only by the sight of a familiar face at the head of that line.

Or, more accurately – as Zelda realized with a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach – _half_ a familiar face.

Major General Morgan, the young director of the Hylian Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance, dropped his salute and stood tiredly but proudly before Zelda as soon as she had stopped in front of him. "Your Highness," he gave a curt, military nod, and that motion alone seemed to emphasize what seemed to have happened to his head. Zelda tried to subdue her reaction, but elements of it still made it past her barriers of self-control, a look of concern crossing her face as she inadvertently reached out towards Morgan's face before checking that action. Her eyes laid upon the right side of the major general's head, which had been wrapped around with bandages, enough to obscure his right eye and cheek, as well as a significant portion of the back of his head. Bits of blood still crested the edge of the bandages; in fact, the blood – along with what looked very much like dust and mud – also dried on his military uniform, making him look as weary and battle-hardened as the enlisted who had been fighting on the field, not bad for a major general who had risen through the ranks solely in the technical department.

"General Morgan," whispered Zelda, worried, almost frightened. "Your face…"

"Minor burn wounds from overzealous Valentine airstrikes," Morgan waved it off, but gently scratched at the bandages a bit, then – perhaps remembering that the doctors or medics had warned him not to do so – dropped that hand back to his side. He did offer a bit of a terse, humorous grin, however. "Worry not, the doctors said it may heal properly with time, and I'm still prettier than the rest of the Joint Chiefs."

Although she didn't express it aloud, Zelda suddenly felt worried about Morgan's specific usage of the word "may".

Awkwardly, the major general gave a quick look around, as if punctuating that the airfield was devoid of an honor guard, lines of waiting soldiers, pomp. "I apologize that the reception does not befit a royal welcome."

"_General_." The crown princess had managed a light, patient smile.

Morgan sighed, but it wasn't unkindly. "My apologies, your Highness," he offered with a sheepish smile; the major general _did_ feel a bit silly at poking fun at the fact that they had few men to spare for appearances. "I _had_ to jest a bit; there's been little to laugh at for the past few days."

"Likewise," conceded Zelda. "All's forgiven?"

"If you say so, your Highness," Morgan agreed before the entourage noted that the rest of the Gerudo aircrew was filing out of the transport plane. Zelda gently took two steps aside to allow Captain Kim and the rest of her crew to stop before the group, provide a swift bow to Zelda – as befitted a sovereign – and then a salute to Morgan – as benefitted a highly superior officer of another armed force.

"Captain Kim," the Gerudo pilot stood smartly at attention, her crew mimicking their captain's actions in a neat line behind her. "Gerudo Third Volunteer Aviation Group."

Not having held a military post that had many foreign officers saluting to him, Morgan's slight awkwardness was noted by Zelda as he abruptly saluted back before officers stood at ease. "Major General Morgan, Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance," he returned the introductions. "I am deeply grateful to all of you for bringing her Highness over safely to New Wagner under such circumstances."

Kim gave a stern nod. "Gerudo looks after her allies, sir."

"I'm grateful to hear it," smiled the major general briskly; it was almost endearing to watch for Zelda, a major general feeling flustered in front of an air force captain. "Your accommodations are still being prepared, but I'm told they're almost ready." He spied the bags that the officers held, noted they looked nothing like military-issue equipment. "Are those her Highness' bags?"

"Yes, sir, and those of the royal chief of staff and director of Joint Intelligence."

Morgan gave a quick look to two soldiers standing behind him, and they quickly detached themselves from the line, moved forward to help take the bags from the Gerudo aircrew before loading them into the back of the waiting humvee. "Thank you," said Morgan. "Is there anything you need in the meantime?"

"No, sir; everything we need is on the plane."

"Very well. I'll send someone to see you to your accommodations as soon as they're ready."

"Thank you, sir." Kim stood straight once more, saluted, and turned to tend to her crew as soon as Morgan had returned that salute, leaving the Hylian entourage to its own.

With formalities taken care of, Morgan gave a small sigh, tugging at his unbuttoned uniform collar, gestured at the waiting humvee only a few meters away. "Shall we, your Highness?"

"Please," replied the crown princess, and, with that, she, the major general, the royal chief of staff, and the director of Joint Intelligence swiftly barked the waiting military vehicle, its driver saluting and opening the door for Zelda as she approached.

Moving to the other side of the humvee, Morgan opened the door for Leonore, maintaining eye contact with Zelda and Impa entering from the left side. "It's good to see you again, Impa, Leonore," he smiled.

"It feels forever since we've last met in that briefing," Impa wheezed tiredly, but there was clear relief in her voice to finally see another familiar Hylian face.

There was evident effort to stifle a grin as Morgan closed the door behind Leonore, jumped shotgun. "Feeling _older_ yet?"

Impa managed to maintain a straight face as she turned serenely to the driver. "Sergeant," she called out in a polite, conversational voice, and the sergeant quickly turned around in his seat to face the royal chief of staff. "Could you please take the general behind the shed and shoot him?" Then, noting that the sergeant actually looked nervously hesitant and startled – utterly oblivious to the wide grin that his major general was wearing beside him – added soon after, "I'm kidding."

Noting the look of perplexed relief on the sergeant's face and what sounded very much like strained laughter, Morgan patted the sergeant on the shoulder, quipped, "I _hope_ she is. Take us to Huntington Manor." He turned back to his passengers in the seats behind him as the sergeant ignited the engine and the car began to roll forward through the airfield and back towards New Wagner proper. "Cleanup of the west wing of Huntington Manor was completed just today, your Highness, and I think will serve well as a temporary place for you to recuperate. We've taken up a new headquarters in the east wing, so we won't be far away."

But Zelda did not miss the "just today" part of the sentence, and picked up the insinuations quickly. "You were waiting for me?" She sounded appropriately surprised.

"Recently, yes. The 107th Infantry Battalion linked up with us two days ago from Fort Regner. They told us that a passing Joint Intelligence agent masquerading as Valentine special forces on a deep cover mission had informed them of your Highness' whereabouts almost two weeks ago. We managed to put two and two together."

Zelda, Impa, and Leonore exchanged surprised looks before they turned into quiet, curious smiles. Somehow, a single agent from Joint Intelligence had become a pivotal factor in the entire war.

The Aurora Ocean was sometimes called the "working man's ocean" due to the number of trade sea lanes it had, as well as the cooler climate compared to the warmer waters and beautiful beaches of the Serenes Ocean to the south. As such, while many of Hyrule's southeastern seaside population centers were filled with vacation resorts frequented by women dressed scantily in bikinis and swimsuits, working docks lined the "concrete coast" of northeastern Hyrule, of which the port city of New Wagner formed a component of that "concrete coast". It was a significant commercial and trade hub as well, with a significant population before the war and many major business investments, but it was the ports – gray and morbid, but full of industry – that made the city prosper.

Of course, the war had ruined that as well.

The humvee drove off the airport runways, moved onto a freeway, a fact that was punctuated by the wheels running over a bump that sharply shifted the weight of the vehicle for a moment, almost throwing the occupants on the right side of the humvee out of their seats. Leonore, alarmed, braced herself by pressing her forearm against the vehicle's ceiling while Zelda reflexively clutched at Impa for a moment in surprise; Morgan gave a terse, incomplete profane uttering before readjusting himself in his seat.

"Sorry about that, your Highness," the sergeant quickly admonished himself. "Valentine shelling and missile attacks have blasted craters, potholes, and rubble all over the place, and we've been engaged in activities just a bit more important than cleaning up. Please try to hang on."

"Or drive more carefully," the major general suggested dryly.

"We won't be hit by another bombardment, will we?" Impa asked worriedly.

Morgan turned around to look at the royal chief of staff from his seat, shrugged helplessly. "If Valent wants to attack, they'll attack. If it's any comfort, though, most of the shelling and missile attacks have generally taken place throughout the night. I think it's psychological warfare to keep us awake and off-balance, but I don't have any psychological warfare experts on hand."

"It's a fair assumption," Leonore – the closest equivalent to an expert on psychological warfare in the humvee – allowed.

"That and the bombardments have eased a bit lately in frequency and amount of ordinance." And, as an afterthought, added quickly, "I'm told that's not necessarily a good thing. It could mean a scaling back to offensive operations, yes; it could also mean they're amassing resources to prepare for a full assault as opposed to harassing offensives, something I'm not certain we could hold if Valent throws its full weight into this."

Zelda leaned forward in her seat to give Morgan her undivided attention, and was swift to reassure him, "I don't want to edge too much into what I understand is a delicate military situation right now, and I'll leave things in your command. I do, however, want an update. I'm sure you've figured it out, but enemy ECM has been horrible, and I have little in terms of the big picture."

"Of course, your Highness. Where do you wish to start?"

"Let's start with the situation here. How are you holding up here in New Wagner?"

The director of OLRER had a remarkable talent for sounding almost nonchalant about issues of great consequence. "Poorly. In terms of manpower, we're barely three army divisions and barely two operational fleets. We _do_ have more ships, but not enough crew to man them, and many those have been damaged beyond combat capacity. Air power is down to three squadrons."

"Please tell me you have more than Rapture and Nemesis fighters, general," cut in Impa worriedly as soon as air power was mentioned. The inflection of her voice – and her choice of making a statement about the air force first – indicated to Morgan the likelihood that the fears of Zelda and her entourage had been worse than the situation New Wagner faced. Pessimism was not an unwelcome trait in matters of military planning, the major general acknowledged, but he still privately wondered nonetheless as to whether or not the royal entourage truly understood the direness of their situation, and if he should do anything about that.

"We've sent our newer aircraft on sorties to harass Valentine forces and maintain local air superiority; it's the only way they've got a chance against enemy air power." Morgan looked as if he were wincing, although probably not for the same reasons as when he had received Zelda from Gerudo plane. "Forgive me if your escort was a bit…rusty, but if we're lucky, we can stall for time against possible Valentine offenses."

The pursing of the crown princess' lips indicated discomfort and worry. "Will they attack?"

"Frankly, your Highness," sighed Morgan, grimacing, "we don't know. The Valentine offensive has really faltered a bit, and no longer carries as much momentum. They know that most of our forces are now consolidated here and in Charlotte, and they know we've got our backs against the wall, so it's really a matter of how much they're willing to lose to bring the last major bastions of resistance down." He managed a tired smile. "We're doing our best to provide plenty of discouragement on that matter."

"But we're still being vastly outnumbered?"

Morgan couldn't quite stop himself from scratching the itch building up under his bandages anymore. "Actually, I think our worst problem may actually be supplies. We're short on everything. Ammunition, equipment…we've got teams scrounging up anything they can find in Hylian-held territories, but we're coming up empty. Neither New Wagner nor Charlotte had military bases, and they're pretty bad fallback points in general, but I don't think any of us had much of a choice in trying to figure out where to retreat towards." He looked out the windows of the humvee, waved to a saluting fireteam of Hylian soldiers that had established a roadblock with a wall of sandbags as the soldiers stepped aside to let the vehicle through. "Numbers are something I don't mind too much right now, as we're dug in rather deeply here, but we need something to fight back with. We've had to seriously conserve ammunition to the point where we're barely effective. At one point, we sent some of our men to infiltrate Valentine positions and take out the enemy with knives before stealing their weapons and ammo. This worked for about two days; Valent found out what we were doing and sent out hunt-and-kill teams from special forces." He scowled unpleasantly. "We didn't stand a chance."

Leonore made a face. "I'm not looking forward to special forces storming New Wagner," she said pointedly.

"Special forces movement and activity have slowed a bit in the last few days, actually," quipped Morgan, "especially starting yesterday. Not great news, but better than nothing."

She had expected news to be bad, but now Zelda herself in serious want of some good news, quick. "You mentioned Charlotte."

"Charlotte is the other major rally point for the majority of our forces, your Highness. Communications there haven't been fluid to the point where we can confidently exchange real-time strategic or tactical information, but we've got the general picture of things. They're a bit more than three army divisions – four army divisions, if you want to be generous with how you count the men – and three air force squadrons. I sent what ships I could spare to Charlotte to counter Valentine naval attacks from the northwest, so they have a total of four fleets, I think." He produced a controlled sigh. "They're not doing so well on the naval department."

The excitement that Zelda had built up for this journey up north was rapidly being deflated into a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach, the realization that she might've been too late, that she couldn't help make a difference. "There's no plus side coming out of this, is there?" she murmured.

Surprisingly, Morgan seemed fairly chipped on that regard. "Well, it depends on how you want to look at it. Numerically, we're in a very bad position: The initial Valentine blitzkrieg pretty much cut us off from our reserve forces, more than six hundred thousand strong we could've mobilized in a scenario like this. We haven't done a significantly accurate headcount of how many people we have in New Wagner and Charlotte combined, but we're looking at less than two hundred fifty thousand altogether, less than half of our entire armed forces in terms of active personnel, not counting reserves. Closer to a third, actually. Toe-to-toe, we're not going to stand up to the numbers Valent is fielding, especially since they have a _much_ higher enlistment rate than us."

Zelda wasn't catching the silver lining as the weight of the humvee shifted forward, the vehicle driving down the ramp of the freeway and into the high-rise filled jungle of downtown New Wagner. The buildings around them were scarred, some with significant holes and craters in them, others still charred and burning. "And is there a side beyond numeric?" she asked.

"Realistically, Valentine operations throughout Hyrule are being bogged by sporadic elements of Hylian resistance all over the country, military units that have been unable to move from their smaller fortified positions or are maintaining stealth, but are continuing to hit Valentine operations across the nation whenever they're not looking, taking out targets of strategic value: Supplies, bases, high-ranking officers. We've been in _very_ sporadic contact with them, and – quite honestly – I can't give you any good estimate on just how many people we've got out there. On the downside, it's pretty much impossible to coordinate on a strategic level, meaning everyone's on their own, but I suppose that pretty much means we're all fighting autonomously, which has its benefits, believe it or not. Any distraction we can provide against Valent's a plus in my book."

It wasn't great news, but Zelda agreed with Morgan on that last account. Now that she was caught up militarily, though, there was a significant point that she had wanted to discuss with her military about, something she had wanted to touch on ever since she first arrived in Fort Garuda and discussed it with Impa and Leonore. "Was there a point in the war where Valentine forces seemed remarkably familiar with Hylian military actions?"

The way Morgan narrowed his eyes carried an obvious "so you've found out too" vibe. "Since the war started," he hissed. "Valentine attacks had been very precise, very methodical, and far too perfect. It's impossible to know for sure, but for the first few days – especially the first day – it seemed to everyone that Valentine forces knew exactly where our forces were, how many there were, and how many of their forces would be necessary to take us out. They were practically winning before the war even started." His brow furrowed even deeper, drawing angry lines across his face that seemed strangely disturbing when creasing the tiny bits of raw skin close to his open eye that the bandages didn't completely cover. "Their intel was _too_ good."

"Someone was leaking intelligence," Zelda agreed. The humvee made a little hop again as it drove over _something_ – the princess didn't manage to catch sight of it – but it didn't pack as much surprise as the first time, and she remained riveted in her seat. "Most likely electronically, through a military server, to give the enemy real-time information as Hylian forces updated them. Have you looked that up?" And, almost immediately after, she regretted not bringing Durandara along; the AI probably would've analyzed Hylian military networks for any signs of such much faster.

The major general somehow managed the truly impressive feat of looking both guilty and defensive. "No, your Highness," he responded, twitching his mouth awkwardly to the side. "Systems at the Haven have been down, communications has been horrible, and infrastructure in general has taken a hit, not to mention we've been far too busy just trying to regroup and survive. At one point, we used a few civilian networks to transmit strategic data…"

Recalling the conversation at Fort Garuda when Durandara was activated for the very first time, Zelda smiled broadly. "The National Meteorological Agency databases," she specified for Morgan.

The director of OLRER – as well as everyone else in the humvee – was properly surprised. "How did you know?" he asked blankly.

"I had a little help," replied the crown princess vaguely with a teasing smile, but swiftly moved onto more pragmatic matters. "I take it you're just not bothering with uploading strategic data anymore."

"We're not. Frankly, we don't have the equipment or infrastructure to properly utilize high-level data management at this point, so the boys over at Charlotte and I are doing this the old fashioned way: Breaking out the radio suites."

That was an archaic method indeed, given the standards of Hylian military technology. "How has that worked out?" Zelda asked, her voice reflecting strong concern.

"Worse than I hoped, better than I feared. Frankly, there's a reason why high-level strategic military decisions were all handed digitally on computers the moment we could ditch the pen-and-paper and radio methods that have been around since before the Second Continental War. My command staff has been comparing the sharing of information with forces in Charlotte like their teenage daughters chatting with a friend over the phone. But it's better than nothing, really, and while I had actually been _very_ worried that the command staff has forgotten how to use a radio after decades of using computerized systems…well, I was as pleasantly surprised as anyone could be under the circumstances." Then, realizing something in hindsight, his face turned hard. "I'm sorry, your Highness; you were talking about a possible traitor."

"Not necessarily a traitor," Leonore suddenly cut in, adding her own input, "but a mole. It could've been a Valentine spy inserted into our ranks instead of a Hylian officer selling us out. We don't know yet."

"We suspected Admiral Francis," Impa pointed out.

Morgan looked clearly surprised at the accusation. "Admiral Francis?" he echoed. "Why him?"

The quick explanation was given about the links between Admiral Francis, Allen-Rosencrantz Heavy Industries, and the Valentine-nationalized Rainer Conglomerate Industries.

It all seemed to be quite a bit for Morgan to take in, but apparently for different reasons. After a moment of contemplative silenced, the major general finally quietly asked, "Do you know that Admiral Francis is dead?"

Zelda showed genuine surprised; Impa and Leonore sported similar looks. "No, I didn't," admitted the crown princess.

"We've lost both him _and_ Rear Admiral Chester. Chester went down with the _Astraea_ and sent the entire chain of command into disarray after everyone was getting used to routing strategic data to his ship. It's why the navy hasn't been up in arms about having a major general command the defensive effort here in New Wagner." Again, Morgan scratched at the itch beneath his bandages before, in afterthought, he turned to the driver, ordered, "Sergeant, radio headquarters, tell them her Highness is incoming, and I want a security detail ready to escort her up to the master bedroom." As the driver reached for the radio, the major general turned back to Zelda, continued, "But Francis was apparently killed within the five days of hostilities. There's some conflicting reports regarding the details, but word is that he had barely managed to get to the _Stalwart_ when it was hit in munitions storage that gutted the ship." His mouth twitched uncomfortably. "I think Valentine forces were still operating on good intel after that."

"Or they were making good use on the momentum given to them through previous intelligence after Francis served his uses," Leonore suggested.

"Possible," Morgan nodded in allowance. "But the Hylian situation has been crazy. We're moving everywhere at once, nothing's consistent, and communications has been horrible. I really don't know _how_ Francis could've kept feeding them good intel beyond the first two days, maybe three. It's been two weeks…no, not yet. Thirteen days of the war so far, and the only things I have a good picture of are New Wagner and Charlotte."

The humvee quickly began to decelerate, a telltale sign that the vehicle had reached its destination, confirmed as the sergeant declared, "Your Highness, we're here."

Huntington Manor was a late fourteenth-century three-story mansion, and looked it with its elegantly shaped walls, terraces, balconies, and spire rooftops. One could've easily mistaken it as a bit of a small hotel. Although clearly not the most defensible structure in the area, even by Zelda's uninformed standards, it clearly looked to be a place where someone could set up army ops. More importantly, it was a fairly low building by downtown standards surrounded by taller high-rises that shielded or hid Huntington Manor from incoming enemy ordinance, but not _so_ tall that raining debris would crush the mansion entirely should those improvised bulwarks fall. "Good choice for headquarters," Leonore, looking up at the building, seemed to concede with that as she slid out of the humvee's back seats, smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothes as she did so. Immediately, Morgan's security detail, a group of eight armed soldiers, had rushed down the front steps of Huntington Manor, stood at attention, and saluted.

"Huntington Manor came with its own backup generator," explained Morgan while he and the sergeant helped Impa and Zelda out of their seats before tending to their baggage, giving a nod for the soldiers to stand at ease and help the delegation with their bags and up to their rooms, "so it was a good place to set up army headquarters. Air force has a tougher time trying to keep enemy fighter-bombers away from their airfield by comparison, and most of the facilities are offline, so we're running only minimal control tower functions from a diesel generator hooked up to mobile radars. Current flagship of the navy is the _Priestess_, which I think…"

"No, sir," the sergeant suddenly interrupted glumly. "The _Priestess_ was sunk two night ago. Flagship now is the _Cradle_." And, immediately, seemed to regret saying that in front of the princess as the atmosphere around turned frustrated, hopeless, and awkward.

"Right," Morgan heaved a deep sigh of frustration, seemed to just wanted to get his statement over with, slung one of the bags over his shoulder…which he was immediately relieved of by a junior officer who declared "let me get that, general". "_Cradle_. Whoever's still alive in the navy is either running naval operations from off that or the Trenton General Hospital."

A bewildered look of indignation and alarm crossed Zelda's face. "The navy has a headquarters set up in a _hospital_?" she exclaimed.

"It was the closest building to the docks that had its own independent generator powerful enough to run things, your Highness," Morgan sighed; he didn't look as if he was trying to defend the decision, but he also seemed very tired on the subject matter at hand. "They've put up no weapons installations, and civilian wounded aren't being treated there."

"But civilian wounded _are_ being treated in the other hospitals?"

"Yes, your Highness."

"And what's to stop Valentine forces from distinguishing those hospitals from our current naval HQ?" Zelda demanded, her face tightly controlled and stiff. "And are there even enough functioning hospitals here to house all the wounded?"

Morgan looked ready to bury his face in his hands in fatigue and frustration; the last few days had taken far too much out of him. The only thing stopping him from doing so was probably royal protocol. "Your Highness," he managed to say plainly as opposed to sighing, and the effort in that was evident in his voice, "whether or not we have enough hospitals really doesn't matter right now. What's important is that we don't have enough _doctors_. Or enough people trained in basic first aid. What little medically-trained personnel we have on hand – military or civilian – are doing what they can right now, but whether we put them in a hospital or not is of little consequence if there's no one there to tend to them."

Pressing her lips into a pale, tight, thin line, Zelda quietly – and perhaps a bit standoffishly – considered that for a while before stating plainly, "I want to see the naval headquarters."

"Yes, your Highness," replied the major general, clearly in no mood to argue or deter the crown princess from doing so. "But may we first get you settled into Huntington Manor?" He quickly gestured into the building, allowing his soldiers to quickly take the bags inside, added before Zelda could get word in edgewise, "It'll make future security for your safety much easier for us to handle down the line."

The sovereign of Hyrule took a bit of time to consider that, but ultimately decided it was reasonable. "Very well."

On cue, one of the officers gently swept his arm towards the front door, offered, "This way please, your Highness."

"Thank you," Zelda nodded politely, and the entourage made its way up the steps of Huntington Manor, entering through the front door where nearby officers immediately saluted at the passing of their sovereign being guided up the stairs. Morgan himself, apparently in need of an extra breath of fresh air, brought up the rear, and was to follow at the very end of the security detail itself when he was intercepted just at the front steps of Huntington Manor.

"General," said Royal Chief of Staff Impa in a tired but quiet voice that almost immediately told Morgan that this was a sensitive matter that required hushed voices if further discussion on the matter was to continue. "May I pull you aside for a moment?"

"Of course," Morgan nodded, stepping a bit to the side of the street, a bit further away from the front doors of Huntington Manor. They were in open view of everyone up and down the street, which included several soldiers set up in defensive positions, but they weren't in danger of being eavesdropped upon unless someone had a directional microphone.

Stopping practically in the middle of the desolate street in front of Huntington Manor, Impa inhaled deeply before asking calmly but anxiously, "Has there been any word on King Robin so far?"

Morgan nodded, but his expression remained grim. "The last we heard of his Majesty was from the 4th Battalion. The armored platoon that had been escorting him had rendezvoused with the battalion about six kilometers east of West Arlington, but got bogged down by very serious fighting during the first night of the invasion. We had assumed the worst after we lost contact with them, but we managed to pick up sporadic transmissions from them three days later. We couldn't figure out where they were, nor do we know if his Majesty was still with them, but they said they were going to attempt to move into the Perrin Mountains. There's a late thirteenth-century bunker there that, although outdated, would make a defense easier. Our last transmission indicated that they were three kilometers away from the bunker and taking enemy fire, but that was four days ago."

A rough mental map of Hyrule formed in Impa's mind. "The Perrin Mountains are about…seven hundred, eight hundred kilometers away?"

"Eight hundred kilometers southwest," the major general confirmed.

"I don't suppose there's a way we could somehow check up on them, see if they're still alive?"

Morgan shook his head sadly. "Not in our current situation, no. We can barely take care of ourselves as is."

But Impa didn't show sign of sadness, just a bit of pragmatic regret – the acceptance of the fact and the immediate "getting over it" – before nodding, preparing to move into Huntington Manor and find the crown princess of Hyrule. "Thank you, Morgan."

"Impa," Morgan quickly said before Impa could walk away, and the chief of staff – who had been about to turn away at what she had considered to be the end of the conversation – turned back around to give the major general her undivided attention. Watching Impa's eyes settle back on him made Morgan feel more than a little nervous and on-the-spot, but he still managed to persist after a moment of hesitation and reluctance. "This may sound cruel and inconsiderate of me, but I don't think we should be concerning ourselves with whether or not his Majesty is alive anymore." Realizing that his words were almost bordering on treason, he swiftly added, "He is, of course, still officially the leader and sovereign of Hyrule, but he's in a coma with little chance of ever waking up. Even if the 4th managed to keep him safe, and even if we managed to bring him here, her Highness Princess Zelda would still be in command of the Hylian armed forces." He wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue; they were feeling remarkably dry. "It may not be my place to say this, but that's the most important thing right now."

If Morgan had been worried about Impa being angry at the insinuation, however, his fears had been misplaced; all the royal chief of staff showed was a tired, weathered sadness. "She knows that, general," murmured Impa. "Why do you think she didn't say a word about her father earlier?"

And, with those words, Morgan felt stupid, realized that he may have been underestimating the crown princess all this time. Hanging his head and sharing in Impa's understanding of Zelda's resolve and self-sacrifices – a king she loved, a father who she will likely never see again – Morgan could only hang his head uncomfortably with Impa as they both averted their gaze into whatever seemed like it would attract their attention most, murmured, "Of course."

* * *

Link counted it as a small blessing that a fog was rolling into Dover Beach. The _Glorious_ remained quite a few nautical miles off the coast of Dover Beach as it rested in the dark of the Aurora Ocean; they had rightly surmised that getting any closer would risk an entire destroyer to detection, and ruining any chance of a stealth insertion. It was why the destroyer had deployed a rigid-hull inflatable out in the ocean, which swiftly carried Link, Jessica, and Epona on its way to Dover Beach, a landing spot that was supposed to be largely devoid of Valentine presence. The entire process took several hours of maneuvering the small inflatable boat through the waters, a stealth insertion that required endurance, attentiveness…and quite a bit of patience.

But if one had worried that a stealth insertion at night by inflatable boat was not quiet and invisible enough, the fog had begun to roll in was good. Link knew that the entire region – and perhaps the regions adjacent to it – was still being contested between Hylian and Valentine forces…and the latest word was that Valentine forces were winning. It meant that – with Link and Jessica actually being further northwest than New Wagner, where Zelda _hopefully_ was at the moment – the two were sailing through an area that could possibly have a Valentine warship passing through at anytime.

When questioned about why the insertion zone was so close to the danger zone, Emi had merely explained that it was the safest place to land while considering the rendezvous point the zorans had proposed. Any closer and they may as well run their boat into a Valentine fleet; any further and they may as well just drive Link across the border by land.

_You really can't win against that woman_, Link thought – perhaps a bit more bitterly than was really necessary, something he was quite aware of – as the rigid-hulled inflatable boat finally began to decelerate for their landing on Dover Beach after hours of skipping across the Aurora Ocean with a single motor. Although they had done their best to keep dry, and although Jessica had kept the speed manageable to prevent their chances of being detected or the boat capsizing entirely, waves and mist had still kicked up across the trip, and neither Link nor Jessica were by any definition of the word "dry". Now relying on the waves and the inertia to carry the boat the rest of the way over to a beach landing, Jessica produced some towels from a waterproof backpack to Link's relief, but it didn't help that his special forces fatigues were still wet. Worse off, Hyrule was still in its winter months, and Link was going to be riding across the country again at high-speeds with Epona.

As Jessica passed a towel the Joint Intelligence agent, who quickly wiped down his face of all the drops of water that had accumulated there, he personally considered just how embarrassing it would be to die of hypothermia in this war.

The slight bump of the vessel came before its complete halt, indicating that they had fully landed on the shore of Dover Beach, which was actually more of a collection of pebbles more than it was an expanse of sand. Immediately, Link quickly pushed Epona off the boat and onto the beach while Jessica swiftly gathered the weapons and equipment she needed that had been stowed on the vessel. Activating Epona's computer systems, Link ran a quick diagnosis through Epona's systems, found to his satisfaction that the water had not damaged or disrupted Epona's components.

Slinging her equipment over her shoulder with a duffel bag, Jessica stepped out from the inflatable boat, having wiped herself down with her own towel as well, making landfall on the beach. "I will attempt to remain in contact with you when possible for updates on both sides, Agent Link," she gave her Hylian counterpart a curt nod. "In the meantime, I will also head for the designated rendezvous point and meet you there."

Link wasn't exactly in doubt of Jessica's abilities, but given that _he_ was the one wearing enemy special forces fatigues, he wondered just how Jessica was going to manage to do that.

Managing a small smile, she said coolly, if not slightly suggestively, "MICO officers have their ways."

Swiftly, Link decided to leave the matter at that.

"Good luck to you, Link," Jessica murmured as the Joint Intelligence agent hit the ignition on Epona, the engine producing that satisfying, familiar purr. "See you on the other side."

Nodding his confirmation on that – he really did hope that they saw each other again at the rendezvous point alive – Link swiftly mounted Epona, hit the throttle as the motorcycle quietly took off from the pebbles of the beach and made his way further inland.

The ride across a Hylian winter was chilly, especially with his fatigues wet, and especially with the wind brushing against him on the road, so Link kept his speed manageable even as he rode through the abandoned freeways of Hyrule, headed southwest. The warmth of his engine radiated through gaps between Epona's armor, providing a bit of warmth even as Link struggled not to shiver and clatter his teeth. Again, there was a feeling of loneliness and desolation here; the northern regions of Hyrule were more sparsely populated, with citizens generally gathered in larger cities along the coast for the convenience of infrastructure. It helped that this was a region of Hyrule that occasionally received heavy snowfall; this year seemed to possess a tamer winter in general, but the chill was still settling in, and fields of snow were not at all uncommon even further northwest in the alpine regions of Hyrule. Thankfully, this was a more forested region of Hyrule, and the clusters of trees in the area helped break what would've otherwise been strong prevalent winds.

Three hours eventually passed; the sun had not rose beyond the horizon yet, but light filtered in even through the fog, giving the region a slightly ghostly ambient lighting. Although it was still cold, the time had allowed for his fatigues to dry, making everything else a bit more manageable. It was with the light that Link, having had Epona climb over a small hill on the Hylian freeway, managed to spot what looked very much like a manned military outpost half a kilometer away through the fog and trees. Swiftly maneuvering Epona into the trees for cover, Link eventually disembarked, remained in hiding even as he crept to the edge of the forest and looked closer at the outpost that had been set up along the freeway. In fact, "outpost" seemed to be a generous term to use, what with the installation being simply a temporary collection of tents, sandbags, and ammo dumps. It took Link several moments to confirm that the soldiers manning the camp were indeed wearing Valentine fatigues, confirmed by Durandara a moment later as she said, "Initial analysis shows this is a local resupply depot, most likely from company-scale operations. Keep in mind the amount of enemy manpower we may see here."

Good advice. Still, it was manageable; given that he knew nothing about enemy regional operations here – it was quite some distance from October City, after all – it would probably be a good idea to move into the depot under the guise of a special forces officer, gather intelligence on exactly what was happening in the area, plan after that. Still, it was a good idea not to attract too much attention, and riding in with a top-of-the-line military scout motorcycle was probably not a good idea. Putting Epona into standby mode in the woodlands, safely hidden away from casual glances towards the treeline, Link armed himself properly before making his way through the fog and towards the depot half a kilometer away.

More shapes began to form as solid silhouettes as he approached, and Link's eyes confirmed Durandara's hypothesis that this was probably manned by a company-sized unit; about two dozen tents of all sizes were erected along the freeway, and although the stations seemed sparsely manned by the standards of a dawn shift, those who remained awake seemed to take up their positions with vigor. The choice of location for the depot wasn't entirely horrible either; it was set up at a chokepoint of the freeway, surrounded by a bit of forest on both sides. This ultimately meant it was virtually invulnerable from armor attacks from any direction but from the freeway, which made assailants an open target. It _did_ also mean that individual infantry had an easier time playing hide-and-go-seek in the forest, but…well, Link didn't worry about that _too_ much. If all went well, the Joint Intelligence agent reasoned even as he closed the distance between himself and the perimeter of the outpost through the fog, he'd be in, gather intelligence, be out, plan accordingly, and then be on his merry way.

Unfortunately, as he reached the checkpoints – formed by a collection of sandbags and machine gun emplacements – he swiftly found out that it didn't seem as of things were going to go well after all.

Upon seeing the silhouette of a special forces first lieutenant emerging from the fog – Link's silhouette had earlier blended in with the landscape, making him hard to see in the mist – the soldiers at the checkpoint were suddenly shouting calls of "halt", with a more reasonable officer speaking "please remain where you are, sir" in a calmer but no less steely manner…despite the fact that everyone in sight whose attention had been attracted by the spectacle, nearly a dozen of these soldiers, were only enlisted men, not officers, and most certainly not special forces.

Link was in disguise, but he wasn't complacent or stupid. Something was wrong. The other soldiers tensed, trying too hard to hide that tension; hands were edging closer to their weapons. Someone spoke into a radio. Too many eyes were on him.

Then, from the corner of his eyes, appearing from behind a tent, Link saw them. Three of them. Green fatigues. Light body armor. Long berets. Gunswords.

Valentine special forces.

* * *

**Exoria File #020  
Valentine Special Forces**

The Valentine special forces, known by no other official designation or moniker, are internationally recognized as the most well-trained, versatile, and lethal infantry group on the continent. The epitome of infantry training that rivals even the fame of their esteemed air force, they are categorized as an "extra-conventional light infantry outfit", their name alone inspiring awe, fear, and admiration wherever they go. Candidates cannot apply or volunteer, but can only be recommended by standing members of special forces; these recommended candidates must then pass through a grueling four-month training-and-evaluation regimen codenamed "ACEOPS" to test virtually every aspect of a candidate's ability to master conventional and unconventional warfare. Historically, thirty-five percent of all candidates never make it to the fourth month, while another twenty percent do not pass the final assessment at the end of the four-month period. Valentine special forces are known for the authority to execute autonomous actions, and can act or react to a situation as they see fit without waiting for commands or authorization from superiors unless otherwise ordered; they respond entirely and only to the special forces chain of command, and are only required to justify their actions through rational reasoning and results. Friction between themselves and the regular military exists due to the former's disdain towards conventional military discipline. Romantics would have everyone believe that Duchess Sieglinde of Rynwall informally founded the special forces in 1263 a.s.r. when she recruited her inner circle amongst minor or disgraced knights, those who could think out of the box and care little for protocol, which would eventually form the core of the army that defeated the Third Zoran Crusade at the Battle of Dendrite Falls in 1264 a.s.r. In reality, Sieglinde had little to do with the organization's formation, having only established the idea and foundations; it was two of her core officers, Sir Laguna and Sir Miranda, who eventually formed the Knight Order of Pentacost in 1281 a.s.r., which was eventually incorporated into the military as the Valentine special forces nearly two centuries later in 1467 a.s.r. Despite this, virtually every member of special forces recognizes Sieglinde as their outfit's patron saint, and the ability to wield a gunsword proficiently, even if it ends up not being their favored weapon of choice, is a traditional must.

* * *

Author's Note: I actually went quite a number of pages over my usual chapter quota this time; practically seven pages over, in fact. Hopefully, this makes up for quite a bit of time spent writing this chapter, although it probably almost means subsequent chapters will be shorter. This may or may not be problematic for me, given that narrative events will be picking up here as everyone seems to be spinning their own plans. I'll try to keep things as manageable and enjoyable as possible.

Not a lot I have to say here this time around, so I suppose it's time to get to the reviews.

Sandrilenefatoren2: _Hi._

_This is not so much a review of this chapter, as it is a review of a response to a review..._

_I was also disturbed by Lily's death, and felt that your explanation was heavy-handed. However, I also realize that the reason I was so averse to your explanation was that it implied that Lily HAD to die for literary reasons, not because it was a likely event under the circumstances. _

_If, instead of Lily flat-out dying and Buddy getting away clean, you had put in Buddy getting winged or somehow implied that his (admittedly douchey) hardscrabble, selfish personality and more mature body had allowed him to get through where a younger, more hesitant and innocent girl had failed, I might have understood it better. _

_A good example of how such a bastard can still be made logical without being too harsh OR sympathetic is Tokagerou from Shaman King. He's dedicated everything he has and is to surviving, whatever the cost to himself, others, or his own soul. He's a horrible, nasty person. BUT, it makes complete sense for him to survive things no one else would, simply because he is so selfish that he doesn't hesitate to abandon others when it serves him (At least at first. He develops more of a heart and integrity later)._

_So what I'm saying is yes, your presentation and explanation were a bit heavy-handed. They seemed to come across as cynical, and subverting idealism for the sake of subverting it. BUT, now that I know your intent, I feel a bit better about it. If you ever go back and edit up those chapters for errors, I'd suggest fine-tuning your explanation at the end to convey what you meant a bit better._

_And while you say that your story is not meant to be cynical, it definitely comes across as such-and not QUITE in the way of Fullmetal Alchemist, which is so cynical it crosses over into idealism again._

_I do love your worldbuilding. I'm a worldbuilder myself, though I rarely get deep enough into it to finish an epic like you're doing. I never really saw much atheism in your story, I have to say. More of the modern casualty of religion-compared to even a century ago, the number of people who are nominally religious instead of devout is huge. Simply put, it's not that your characters are atheistic or even agnostic, so much as it is that they don't make religion a central part of their lives in the way they might have done in the past. _

_I love your social commentary on how varying demographics affect each other. Polygamy IS practical for a society like the Gerudo, where men are so rare. Just as it's practical for monarchies prone to political assassination. The old Chinese emperors (not sure how it works nowadays) had lots of wives and tons of kids, because it was the best way to ensure a line to the throne being solid and steady, and increased political ties through ties of blood._

_I'm rambling._

_Anyway, I won't bother asking you about what's coming next (you never tell anyway), but I do have to wonder a bit about the naming themes. Or lack thereof. After all, you've got a Jessica in Gerudo, as well as more 'exotic' names like Emi, Manee, and Sira. And while Valentine names generally seem more Latin-based, again there isn't a real distinction. Some of this could be attributed to cultural drift, except that the cultures from which those names were derived do not EXIST in your world. Admittedly, it's extremely difficult to come up with tons of names off the top of your head that follow a particular cultural theme without jacking some of them from a real-world culture... but if you HAVE to do that, could it at least be consistent? Zelda is a real-world name, sure... but it's not a common one, nor is Impa. Malon, Talon, Ingo, Ruto, Saria... none of those names sound 'ordinary'. You might try sticking with real-world names that are very rare, so as to maintain that 'otherworldly' charm of the setting, and supplementing them with names that you make up. Because as it is, I find myself being thrown out of my willing suspension of disbelief every time I read a common name. It doesn't help that I know LOTS of Jessicas and Jennifers and Alexandrias..._

_And while I know you can't respond to EVERY review (not even the long ones) in your notes at the end of a story, I'd be flattered by a personal response or reply if you don't want to put this in your notes._

I admit I have a fascination for tragedy. I don't necessarily _like _it (I'm a pretty depressed individual as is, so there are far too many times where I go out of my way to avoid it), but influences from well-known writers such as Shakespeare have convinced me as a child that it is an effective narrative device, and – frankly – I like plucking at heartstrings. When you get your audience to sympathize, that's a small success as a writer. The way you word your review is a bit of a logical fallacy; as I am a writer, there are no reasons why I would keep anyone alive or dead because of literary reasons, ultimately because I'm the _writer_ (I think this may just be splitting hairs over semantics, though). Ultimately, though, I think my point was twofold: To introduce elements of tragedy and heartbreak into the story, and to subvert the expectations of the reader. There definitely _was_ the desire to subvert a norm – I won't deny that – but, again, this was my toying with elements of tragedy. Link had little to do with Buddy's successful escape aside from being released from his jail cell, honestly; Buddy simply got lucky, and didn't get hit by bullets. Some people get lucky. Some people get unlucky. And Lily, no matter how sweet and innocent she was, no matter if she offered Durandara a cookie or not, was unlucky, and sometimes, for that simple reason, people pay the ultimate price for it. It's unfortunate, and I'm certainly not going to dance over any graves, but it happens. Did I mean to kill Lily? Yes. Do I feel great about it? No. And chances are, my intention was for the audience _not_ to feel great either. That's likely the point of tragedy.

I thank you, on the other hand, for understanding my approach with the religious dynamics of _Exoria_, and your understanding of the necessity of Gerudo polygamy (I had actually been rather worried that readers may see this as another inexcusable atrocity on part of the author). In general, I try to take Gerudo names – regardless for a person or a location – from a picture of Middle Eastern, South Asian, Southeast Asian, and Japanese cultures; a lot of the bases are named after actual locations in these very large regions, and Manee, for example, is actually a rather common Thai name (or so a Thai friend told me). I understand what you mean: There is absolutely no in-universe reason why I should use "common" real-world names in a _Zelda_ fanfic when the games themselves rarely had such names (aside from, as you have mentioned, cultural drift, but then there's also no real reason why Hylian and Valentine names should be distinctly "Western"). I only have two real excuses for this: That English is my mother tongue and I therefore have a bit of a preference and/or familiarity for these names, and that I personally feel it is instinctively easier to have the impression that this is a modern-day fic with the inclusion of common names we see everyday.

…That, and – not being from any of the regions upon which I take names for Gerudo – I'm not particularly familiar with the languages from these regions.

(On a related note: I used Karachi as a name for a Gerudo population center back in Chapter Seven; while writing this chapter, I was a bit surprised to see the headlines that Karachi, Pakistan, had been attacked by terrorists. I _did_ take the name from Karachi, Pakistan, very much knowingly, but I was quite surprised to actually see a Pakistani population center that people outside Pakistan have probably never heard of – the same one I'm using in _Exoria_ – being mentioned on news headlines.)

Thank you very much for your review, and I hope you continue to enjoy _Exoria_.

The Pilot: _Third review in one night! I'm on a roll! *pumps fist in the air* (Actually, I FINALLY found the time to be able to sit down and enjoy R & R-ing for a change. Graduate school, work, and personal stuff - I'm sure you can relate. *grin*)_

_Jeez, who is that girl with the boomerang? I had just thought of her as a minor spy, given her earlier activities, but her disposal of those two drunks was...shall we say...brutally efficient. I cannot help but wonder at her more important role in events to come, but for some reason, I'm thinking it may involve Link._

_And now the motive of some of the intrigue! Quite an impressive operation that Emi came up with, preventing Link from checking with his superiors, forcing him to decide to take on Jormungand like that. But speaking of MICO, I wonder what Jessica's up to?_

_My opinion of the humor so far is that it's just right - not overdone, yet not scarce, either. I am really growing fond of Durandara; I cracked up when she told that joke to Link during his talk with Emi! Again, quality work as always. And as to the speed of updates, don't worry about rushing. I'd much prefer to wait longer, and have a high-quality work, than to have you rush something out._

_Finally, don't sell yourself short when it comes to plotting. There are only about a few dozen authors in the Zelda section of ffdotnet whose works are truely worthy to be called "epic" (due to length, and quality); I consider your work to be included in that group. That's my call as one of the senior readers/reviewers on fan fiction dot net. (Yes, I am that old; I was on here reading and reviewing right after Xing Li started the site in 1998, though I didn't create my account for signed reviews until 2002. Boy, those were the days...2000-2002 was when the Zelda section of the site started to really take off, when Rose Zemlya, Fierce Deity, Arxane, Big Niz, Becky Tailweaver, and Kokiri7656, to name a few, were writing their fics. Heck, the over 100K words story category for zelda was one page back then! But my apologies, I went off on a tangient.)_

I can related, indeed; I'm glad you've found time to get back to us, though. Let's give this a run-through.

Without giving too many spoilers, the girl with the boomerang will be fairly important. And, to fuel the speculation, there's a not-insignificant chance that – given that she's on the side of Valent (or Southern Gerudo, or just Stranger C.) – she'll do battle with Link at least once. Given that Juno's being using her and Stranger C. with Link as the prime suspect of sabotaging Anansi, I'm sure the 1st Special Investigative Unit will make things difficult.

I'm glad you're fine with the amount of humor in the story, and your faith in my writing abilities. And while I fear I'm not _that_ old, and unfamiliar with the history of FFNet, I'm quite thankful to hear that you regard my work so highly. I will do what I can to not disappoint.

Oh, and in response to your previous two reviews: Danielle – and Manee and Sira, for that matter – survived the Battle of Nabil City, which resulted in a Gerudo victory (a costly one, but not necessarily a pyrrhic one). Given that reception towards Foxtrot Company of the Gerudo 2nd Airborne Battalion has been good so far, I'm trying to see if I can write about them again, and hopefully garner similarly positive reading experiences.

Ngandu the Croc: _[If I actually put Ngandu the Croc's entire review down here, it'd probably take up a good third of the entire chapter, so I'll just let him know here that I'm replying to his review, and people interested in what he said can look for his really, _really_ long review.]_

My birthday was on May 27, which was the day I read this review. Easily the best birthday gift I received online this year, if not any year. Thank you very much for the very enjoyable read; I fear my reply won't be anywhere as long, but I will try.

The Jormungand arc will probably be the most narrative storyarc for the first half of the story (by contrast, the Quetzalcoatl arc will probably be more action-orientated), so – yes – I'm making Link work for his victory…and even then, I'm not guaranteeing that there's a _real_ "victory" to be had at the end of the day. It's very much a grey area. Same goes with characters in general, really; I sometimes try to challenge accepted moral conventions, and while all characters have their own interpretations, I don't necessarily agree with what the characters of the story say about matters concerning, for example, morality and spirituality, nor do I believe they are right. I'm not going on an Author Filibuster here, and I strive to remain neutral about the morality and values of my characters. They're there, and it's for you to figure out what to make of them. It's why I'm not trying to shed any "good" or "bad" light on the issue regarding child soldiers, religious conflicts, spirituality, and some other stuff that has been mentioned in previous reviews.

Exoria File #017 explains this, but I'll try expanding on this explanation: There has historically been quite a bit of unrest between the more rural Southern Gerudo and the central government in the north (actually, Garuda is located near the middle of the nation, and Northern Gerudo actually slants a bit more to the northeast). There have been two Southern Gerudo Civil Wars, the first in 1396 a.s.r. and the second in 1456 a.s.r. The fighting had occurred for two different reasons, however; in 1396 a.s.r., the war was fought over Southern Gerudo's disagreements with the central government having what the traditionalists believed to be too much power. Southern Gerudo began to accumulate military strength in hopes of utilizing the threat of force as a deterrent for the progressives in the north from consolidating too much central power, or – if necessary – storm Fort Garuda to implement a new government. But the fighting accidentally broke out earlier than expected and before Southern Gerudo was ready (popular conspiracy theories say that Hyrule helped influence this to weaken Southern Gerudo). As a result, a military commanded from Fort Garuda cut through Southern Gerudo and pretty much stripped local governments and tribes of their power, thus breeding animosity between Northern and Southern Gerudo, the same animosity marking a shift of mentality for the southerners; before, they merely wanted more power with local governments instead of the central government, but afterwards, they wanted to secede from the Gerudo Union altogether. Naturally, religious conservatives took advantage of the situation and added the need for a "theocratic government", and things went downhill.

Eventually, in 1456 a.s.r., Southern Gerudo launched a bid for independence and attacked Northern Gerudo forces in an attempt to kill off the possibility of a retaliatory strike; the idea was that Northern Gerudo was too exhausted from the Second Continental War to stop Southern Gerudo from seceding. However, they did not expect Northern Gerudo forces to respond with such strength, nor did they anticipate international assistance from Hyrule and Valent, so Southern Gerudo lost that war too. Despite two failed civil wars, animosity still runs high in Southern Gerudo, which has now moreorless become the haven for religious conservatives and tribal leaders. The question of whether or not Gerudo had a "very major problem with violent extremists before the war" really depends on how you define "very major". I can say that, for starters, MICO does its job well, and things are actually generally not nearly as bad as things can get in Israel in real life (although one can argue that, given that Gerudo is _much_ larger than Israel in landmass, the scale and saturation of events that actually happen in Gerudo are probably downplayed more than they are in Israel). MICO, however, is not infallible; remember that the reason why Emi speaks with a hoarse voice and wears and eyepatch is because her throat is damaged and one of her eyes is gone, and _that_ happened because she managed to survive a car bombing. When the head of your country's primary military intelligence organization is pretty seriously wounded by a terrorist act, one begins to question whether they have the terrorism issue "under control".

Working with Durandara's a pretty thin line. I have to keep her plot-relevant, have to keep her spirited while I'm completely aware that quite a few reviewers think she's annoying and won't shut up, have to keep her powerful enough to be useful in hopes the previous aspect will be forgiven, have to keep her not-so-powerful as to singlehandedly solve everything in _Exoria_. Which is probably why – as you have keenly noted – that _Exoria_'s humor comes in three distinct flavors: "Snark, reaction shots, and Durandara". And this leads me to the part I've been dreading in terms of replying to your review, the fact that you've dedicated many, _many_ paragraphs to explaining your take on my humor (or lack of it) in _Exoria_, and the fact that I may not be able to scrounge up more than a paragraph in response. Those three aspects – snark, reaction shots, and Durandara – may moreorless be the only tidbits of humor that I'm able to achieve even without the weight of the plot. One could even believe that the reason why I go for such a serious, plot-heavy story is to distract you from the fact that my sense of humor is greatly impaired. A lot of the humor is not really intended so much as it's a natural outcome: Yes, Link _has_ to go destroy Jormungand, and everyone familiar enough with the formula of _The Legend of Zelda_ knows he has to, but even without _intending_ to write humor, even without thinking about the possibility of hilarity and absurdity, how _else_ are you – a mute (Link isn't really a mute, but that's not the point) – going to react to the director of a foreign military intelligence organization asking you to destroy Jormungand?

…Yeah, I thought so.

In any case, though, I don't intend to slow down the plot too much. _Exoria_ is a very plot-driven story, which I worry quite often comes at the expense of toning down character-driven aspects…although, hopefully, this will change by the second half of _Exoria_ – you'll see what I mean when we finally get there, something I'm _really_ itching to get to. Sadly, there's also the chance that, for narrative reasons, the humor will actually tone _down_ by the second half…but we'll see how that goes.

Closing comments: The "special relationship" between Hyrule and the zorans may not be what you believe it is. In fact, it's not entirely farfetched that the zorans are one of the many major reasons that – as you've so eloquently put it – "are going to give Link hell". And, yes, I've been doing my best to portray Alexandria as a badass. A little tidbit: It'll be mentioned in the Exoria Files at some point (possibly #022, but I give no guarantees), but Alexandria has a younger sister named Phoenicia, and parents by the name of Clyde and Celeste, all of whom are at certain levels of awesome as well.

P.S. Whenever I reply to a review made by a registered member, I send them a PM directly, usually immediately (or just within a few days) of reading the review, which saves them the trouble of waiting for the next chapter to come along to see what I've responded with in the author's notes. However, you've deactivated your PM system, so I can't do that with you; if you'd like to receive PM responses to your reviews, please do activate your PM system and give me a buzz. I don't make it a point to mention it to everyone, but you're one of my more frequent (and _very_ comprehensive) reviewers, so I thought I should give that a mention. Please don't feel terribly compelled to turn it on if it is not your wish, though.


	22. Chapter Twenty

**Chapter Twenty**

The most feared military infantry outfit on the continent was not also the deadliest without a reason: Even before Link realized that he desperately needed an advantage on the wrong end of far too much firepower, the _real_ special forces soldiers – apparently having seen something they didn't like about the "special forces officer" standing at the checkpoint a bit more than thirty meters away – had already reached for and drawn their gunswords, beginning to take aim even before Link had a chance to reach for his own weapon.

The first thought to cross Link's mind was simple: His cover was blown, the entire mission was a failure, and now everything was going to hell specifically for him.

An act of desperation in drawing his gunsword gave Link to advantages that he barely but instantly observed: That the Valentine special forces soldiers were standing at more than thirty meters away, which was difficult even for the most well-trained soldiers to hit right off a quick-draw with a handgun especially when friendly units were in the way, and – much more importantly – the regular Valentine soldiers standing much closer to Link had their backs turned towards the approaching special forces soldiers, and were not actually entirely clued into how alarmed they should be at the situation right now; most of them looked alert, but still had their weapons aimed roughly towards the ground.

Link didn't know _why_ this was so – despite the new protocols that had come down from the National Defense Committee demanding more security checks, especially for special forces, the Valentine soldiers at _this_ checkpoint had believed Link to only be a thorny new security protocol issue, not an _actual_ intruder masquerading as one of them – but he was all too happy to take advantage of the laxness on part of the regular troops; he would get no such reprieve from Valentine special forces.

Instinctively, with years of experience with the gunsword taking control, Link drew his weapon, the firearm already switching into sword mode as the force of the blade extending became sufficient to cut a deep gash through the abdomen of one Valentine soldier that had been standing too close. Immediately, as soon as the gunsword had clicked completely into sword mode, Link triggered the switching mechanism again, and the blade began to swing back into place as the weapon returned to handgun mode; the same force that was added to Link's swing cut through the shoulder of another Valentine soldier within melee range. Instantly, within two seconds, two Valentine soldiers were down, and their comrades in the regular army were only starting to react.

Link didn't give them any time to contemplate the matter too long; even as he broke into a sprint to the side, trying to make his way into the forest where there would be greater cover – not to mention to try to call Epona and lose his pursuers – he swiftly fired off shots from his gunsword, targeting those closest to him, trying to buy time and eliminate as many sources that could put down a field of fire as possible. Shouts of alarm and orders were heard in Valentine as the depot, undoubtedly hearing the sounds of gunshots, stood to alert. Link could only hope that the company would be slower to rouse in the pursuit of a single infiltrator.

A machine gun opened up just as the Joint Intelligence agent made it past the tree line, the edge of the forest. Successive high-caliber rounds didn't find their mark, but the succeeded in tearing pieces of bark and splinters from threes, and Link instinctively covered his head even as he continued fleeing forward, defending himself from wooden shrapnel being thrown into the air. For a moment, a sharp pain struck his knee and he tripped onto the ground, and Link thought that a bullet had finally found its mark, that it was all over, but that he was able to get back up and continue running convinced him that a machine gun had merely grazed the very edge of his knee-pads, a _very_ lucky stroke; had the bullet been aimed just a few millimeters in the wrong direction, his escape would've come to a disastrous end.

The forest was too large for a company to properly surround, attempt to cordon, and hunt a Joint Intelligence agent in, so Link knew that – for the time being – he only needed to worry about infantry pursuit as opposed to armor or aircraft coming after him in full force.

Unfortunately, flashes of familiar grin at the peripheral of his vision, accompanied by the occasional sound of what sounded like sporadic handgun fire, indicated exactly who was leading that chase: Special forces.

And they were giving chase easily. An extra-conventional light infantry outfit, special forces brought with them minimal weight into battle, favoring speed over survivability in terms of equipment, the latter of which they relied more on their training and skill. Link was carrying virtually the exact same equipment, but the sniper rifle he had slung around his shoulder – useless in an engagement like this – still weighed him down, as did his gunsword and body armor. Granted, his pursuers also wielded such weapons and wore such vests, but these were people who were used to carrying all that equipment as part of their job description; Link was no slouch himself, but his role in Joint Intelligence was an intelligence agent first and a combatant second. Also, he had more urban combat training experience than wildlife combat training; things might've been different if their surroundings were a more modern, angular environment that Link was accustomed to, but ultimately, if it took a few seconds for Link to time his sprints to bound over conglomerates of roots and rocks and dirt and grass without tripping, his pursuers, who had much more wilderness combat training than he did, took a split-second less. Those split-seconds chained into entire seconds, and with a minute counting down with the chase, it became clear that special forces was gaining on him.

Link wasn't about to outfight three special forces soldiers toe-to-toe like this. He may have done it before back in Hyrule City, but he had the advantage of a much more advanced military scout motorcycle. On foot, things changed. That was unacceptable; he needed to find some way to balance the odds.

Apparently, Durandara had read his mind, because she was instantly suggesting, "Link, there's an abandoned regional subterranean utilities hub two hundred meters northwest of your current location." And, as if to indicate to a frenzied Link exactly which way northwest was, pulsated a small directional arrow of light that actually pointed him in the rough direction he was already fleeing towards. "You need to get there ASAP for more cover. _Move_!"

It would sacrifice mobility and give the enemy main force – if they were giving pursuit – a chance to catch up, but at that moment, anything was better than having to deal with three highly-trained light infantrymen who were gaining on him; sooner or later, he'd have to be dodging gunfire from three pursuers on foot…and the forest here was too dense to rely on Epona's automated navigation system to ride over and give him a quick escape.

Link quickly took off, and not a moment too soon; gunfire from Valentine gunswords was already blazing in from behind him, the whizzing of bullets telling him they were close. Even when running, the special forces infantrymen were excellent shots, but Link knew it would still take a matter of luck to actually hit someone sprinting through the woods when the shooter was also sprinting with a handgun. Still, the Joint Intelligence agent knew that the point wasn't to actually _hit_ him, but to intimidate, trip him up; these things were always easier to do when one was the pursuer. Link didn't bother to return fire – it would be worse than useless – and just kept on running. He needed to get to more defensible ground, and the wilderness was not one of them.

It was difficult trying to keep track of whether one had run a hundred meters or not when sprinting through the wilderness with armed individuals after oneself, but when Link passed by what he determined was likely the one hundred meter mark and kept on running, there was a distressing lack of presence of any form of structure around in the trees, subterranean or not.

"Hang on," Durandara sounded like she was struggling with frustrated concentration. "_Useless outdated maps_!"

Link had no intention of "hanging on"; he kept on sprinting. Although it was hardly something that Joint Intelligence field agents needed to do on any appreciable basis, Link couldn't help but regret not having made more workout sprints wearing full military gear; special forces may have been a light infantry outfit, but they were still much more accustomed to running around in combat gear than Link, who felt his endurance being steadily drained by the unfamiliar excess weight that was his vest and equipment.

"Okay, the hub _may_ be just a handful of meters to your eleven o'clock," Durandara suggested. Link didn't feel very reassured by how the AI stressed the "may" part of the sentence. It wasn't as if he had a choice, though; he made a minor course adjustment, ran as fast as he possible could, his free right arm brushing across low leaves and bushes whipping across him as he navigated the terrain. He thought about the equipment he had gathered so far – a sniper rifle, a grappling gun, and plastic explosives – and deemed them all nearly useless in this engagement.

Thankfully, this time, Durandara's estimate was on the money; only after seven seconds of running did Link finally break through a small line of trees into what actually looked to him more like the entrance to a subterranean bunker than a subterranean utilities hub. In fact, what with what was effectively a roofed staircase leading downwards, the faux special forces first lieutenant was almost tempted to think of it as what a minimalist concrete entrance to an underground rail station could look like.

But it wasn't time to think of that too much. Link practically slid down the stairs on his boots as opposed to running down, trying to put as much distance between himself and his pursuers as possible. The bullets that came in with him ricocheted uncomfortably close, but – miraculously – he remained unscathed even as he reached the end of the staircase a floor down, breaking into a roll before regaining his feet and pressing himself against the walls at the base of the staircase, hoping to use the staircase as a narrow field of fire by which to bottleneck pursuing forces for just long enough – he needed to flee before the Valentine military decided to devote more manpower on a manhunt – to either take down a soldier or two, or to dissuade them from pursuing _too_ closely…

Except the sight of a grenade being lobbed several moments later down the stairs instantly caused Link to sprint away from the bottom of the bottleneck staircase, barely managing to find cover behind something metallic and solid – Link realized that he hadn't taken a survey of his surroundings yet, noted that he really didn't care about that just yet – before the grenade detonated behind him, resonating so loudly in the closed, underground chamber that it felt deafening, almost dizzy. He quickly tried to find his feet, stumbling as quickly as he could onwards, knowing that there was no way he was going to attempt to hold anyone here in this condition; he'd need a moment or two to recover.

The possibility of using plastic explosives as a means to slow his pursuers down came across his mind…a possibility Link dismissed just as quickly. He didn't know how confined spaces were down here, nor was he familiar with the hub's structural integrity. An ill-placed explosive could bring down the entire complex on him. If he was lucky, the collapse would kill him instantly; if not, he'd either starve or suffocate to death.

Regaining some orientation after the ear-ringing explosion, Link quickly cast hurried looks around. For starters, it was remarkably dark, the entire area barely illuminated only by bits of emergency lighting; it was likely this hub, although abandoned long ago, was still connected to an active power grid somewhere. It meant that visibility was poor, but still existent. His sunglasses helped here…but that could effectively matter very little if pursuing special forces had night vision goggles. Shapes of what looked like large pieces of machinery and shelves were arranged all across the area, but from a structural standpoint, Link noted that the hub actually bore a resemblance – both in layout and size – to an underground rail station. Plenty of cover and plenty of room to move around.

Not that it necessarily worked out in his favor; his enemies would benefit from the same advantages, giving them the option of suppression and flanking.

"I'm attempting to gather enough spectroimagery data to compile a possible layout map of the area for your use," Durandara announced, her voice appropriately tight and concentrated. "Stand by."

Already, footsteps echoing behind Link told him that the special forces infantrymen had long since taken advantage of flushing the JI agent out of his chokehold position, having descended the stairs and moved into a fanning formation to sweep the area. Peering over the machine – it looked like an overlarge ventilation component – Link noted that the special forces operators after him did not carry night vision goggles, likely because they did not expect to use them in the morning and thus left them with inventory. With his sunglasses made of an optic polarizer, Link had the advantage where seeing in the dark was concerned…_barely_. But with emergency lighting on, moving further in wouldn't make a difference; it was dim all around and no darker inside. He needed room to retreat if things went badly for him. He had no idea if there was a second escape route, if this was a dead end…and judging by Durandara needing to "gather enough spectroimagery data to compile a possible layout map of the area", chances were good that even she had no idea what to expect here, and that everything she had about this subterranean hub was outdated. Thankfully, judging by the movements of the special forces operators sweeping the area, it seemed as if this place was just as unfamiliar to them as it was to Link.

But that relief was short-lived. Despite the alien surroundings, the special forces operator moved fluidly from one cover to the next. Without speaking, almost as if it was merely a second instinct, they moved as a team, covering each other's blind spots as if telepathically aware of where the other two teammates were at any given moment, maintaining adequate spacing to ensure that they covered every inch of the hub in their sweep, ensuring they wouldn't miss their prey or be ambushed by them. They moved with the kind of alacrity and certainty only confident veterans could; even Link, who hoped to at least take out one operator with a potshot or two, could only watch helplessly as one operator emerged from cover for just a few seconds before disappearing into the darkness or behind even more cover. And just as he tried to wait out the man, another operator would repeat the motion but at a closer distance, and Link had to slide away in retreat to prevent himself from being found. That there was much cover for him to retreat and worry less about incoming gunfire was of no comfort to him; the enemy enjoyed the same advantage.

"There's an optimal vantage point six meters to your seven o'clock," Durandara whispered as the agent continued to slide backwards. "Between two power converters, with a crate in front of it. Good cover from multiple sides, good angles for sighting between enemy cover, and an available retreat option."

Link nodded, although only with the barest of motions; it wasn't that he wasn't appreciative – he certainly hoped that Durandara would continue to keep a lookout for these spots – but the Joint Intelligence agent feared that any chance movement would give away his position. He was taking too long to set up; enemy eyes would soon adjust to the darkness, making it all the harder for him to hide. The same was true the other way around, of course, except the special forces operators had no need to hide; they were the hunters here.

Pulling up to the spot the AI had recommended, Link understood what Durandara had been talking about; a thick wooden crate gave him a good place to peek over and fire at enemies, while two large power converters coated with metallic playing prevented conventional flanking maneuvers from the side. The converters themselves stretched back further into the large room for two meters before turning into a conglomerate of twisting pipes and tubes and shelves, providing a messy but possible path of retreat if Link needed it. But the JI agent wasn't entirely sure about Durandara's statement about "good angles for sighting between enemy cover", for when he chanced a peek beyond the crate in search for the Valentine special forces operators sweeping the area, they still managed to faded in and out of existence, in an out of Link's field of vision, in and out of where the JI agent could put bullets into their bodies.

Either this was as good as shooting conditions in this room got, or the enemy operators were just that good. Link had an unsettling feeling that it was _both_.

But the first point still stood, and Link didn't intend to waste the opportunity to utilize his short-lived advantage. Barely peeking up from beyond the crate he used as cover, he settled his arms on top of the crate, steadying his aim as he aimed his gunsword in handgun mode into the darkness, trying to keep track of the sporadic movements of his foes, trying to ascertain where the next one was going to pop up. And, when he had decided that his sights were aligned with the space the special forces operator on his left would be in a second – confirmed a split second later when familiar green fatigues began to fill that space – he pulled the trigger. But the shot had been inopportune – not that there had been great opportunities to begin with – and it missed; the round had the grace to at least ricochet, but even that didn't strike its target.

The response was instantaneous: Link's gunsword was suppressed, but even that gave away sound signatures, especially in a quiet, enclosed chamber such as this; one moment he was trying to see if he can get a second shot, the next moment he was ducking back behind the crate as bullets filled the air where he had once been, causing the JI agent to scramble below and duck and cover. All three enemy gunswords were blazing, bullets flying…no, it wasn't _three_ gunswords, Link realized, only two at rough but practiced intervals. The enemy three-man team took turns reloading, keeping him pinned down and unable to retaliate, ensuring that he could not outgun two soldiers at once, ensuring that he could not get the drop on any of them had the operators stopped to reload at the same time. There was very literally no opening for him to even take potshots.

Link needed to gain more ground. He frantically crawled away from his cover and deeper into the darkness, staying low as ricocheting bullets pinged off machines and pipes all around him, wincing and twitching as each and every bullet felt like it had come too close to finding his flesh. Almost as a reflexive coping mechanism, he scowled furiously, telling himself that facing down Valentine armies, superweapons, and special forces was _not_ part of the job description when he joined Joint Intelligence or became Princess Zelda's bodyguard.

Link took a deep breath, calmed himself. The frustration he was feeling was _exactly_ what his enemies wanted him to feel right now…so he needed to remain calm, to rethink things over. So the enemy was special forces. They were soldiers, and he was a field intelligence officer. The Joint Intelligence agent tried to logically push that train of thought down. Most soldiers were trained to engage enemies in firefights that spanned many, many meters, sometimes up to two hundred with assault rifles. Special forces operators largely carried gunswords, but the mentality of long-range firefights – in stark contrast to the close-range full-automatic action of war movies – was probably difficult to shake from most soldiers. As a Joint Intelligence agent with only some military training with the Hylian Marines, Link's occupation really didn't put him in a position where he could participate in long-range firefights aside from using a sniper rifle. He didn't imagine that the operators would be inferior to him in melee combat either, nor did he imagine he was physically stronger than enemy soldiers.

So that left him with a combat range Link specialized in that hopefully – _hopefully_ – enemy soldiers would be just _slightly_ less well-versed in: Mid-range.

But first, he needed to find cover, depending on Durandara to locate another prime shooting spot. Rising back to his feet when he was convinced he was surrounded by sufficient cover, he prepared to withdraw further into the hub…

…Except, out of reflex, his body swiveling to the side followed immediately after seeing a flash of movement on the left, and Link was immensely grateful for the fact that the split-second that it took for the Valentine special forces operator to complete the step to enter blade-range with Link was just long enough for Link to transform his own gunsword to sword mode and clumsily parry the incoming blow. He stumbled backwards – it was both reflexively and something that was forced – and, instantly, when he had gained some appreciable distance from his assailant, gunfire suddenly erupted from both sides, and Link found himself flinching and diving for cover. The operators were trying to control his movements, force him into a corner. Scowling, Link transformed his weapon into handgun mode, attempted to let off a few random shots only to provide some light suppression fire and give himself some room to breathe, then, waiting for the assailant to catch up with him from around the corner, matched blades with her again. The woman was uncreative, but just as fast and strong as Link, if not faster _and_ stronger; she twisted the blow aside, attempted to bring the blade back up for an upwards slice, found it blocked by a thrusting parry…then suddenly jumped backwards, allowing her comrades to again unleashing a crisscross of lethal bullet fire, forcing her opponent back behind something solid. Link managed to let off two fairly accurate shots – as in his bullets actually forced one of the operators to seek cover – before his chamber clicked empty; he had only managed to reload when his fencing opponent reappeared with a wide but precise slash. Not quite able to complete the transformation from handgun to sword in time, the improper and clumsy parry caused Link to stumble and fall onto the floor, and he barely scrambled away in time to avoid what would've undoubtedly been a coup de grace.

In comparison to Valentine fixed-blade gunswords, Link's transforming gunsword, powered by a mechanism that allowed near-instantaneous switching between handgun and sword modes, had the distinct advantage of operating more optimally in either capacity than fixed-blade gunswords. The standard gunsword supplied to Valentine special forces suffered from the fact that their weapon was basically a handgun with a less significant curvature and a shorter blade extending from the firearm's barrel, which not only made the weapon significantly more barrel-heavy and could throw off aim, but also necessitated the mastery of sword fighting with a slightly awkwardly angled blade, the handle and the blade crooked instead of being a straight line. While this design was undoubtedly done for the sake of simplicity and easier maintenance, it came with a not-insignificant advantage: The fixed-blade gunsword was both a gun and a sword at the same time at any moment, and changing the method of attack required only a slight shift in angle and a quick trigger finger. Link's transforming gunsword took only a near-instantaneous moment to change modes…but it ultimately wasn't instantaneous, and in battles where split-seconds mattered, he was at a disadvantage.

The problem was that Link had severely underestimated the ability of special forces to adapt to different combat situations. Knowing that Link had the advantage one-on-one in a straight out gunfight or sword duel, they were exploiting his gunsword's weakness, forcing him to waste precious split-seconds switching between the two modes. One enemy infantryman would jump out with a slash of his blade, which Link would parry, but then the opponent would jump away, leaving Link vulnerable to gunfire from one or two enemies at medium range, forcing Link to seek cover, transform his gunsword into gun mode to return fire…and, just at that moment, the first special forces operator would jump forth once again to impale Link, forcing him to waste another split-second trying to deflect that blow by changing into sword mode before the process repeated itself. It was only a matter of time before he tripped up, or before one of them managed to bury a blade into his flesh, or before a bullet wound up in his body. Numbers did matter in this fight.

They were incredibly fast and efficient; they knew what to do when pursuing a single target, knew what a single target would attempt to do when chased, and knew how to counteract that instantly. Rarely had Link felt so pressured, as if he were a tame animal being set loose as game for an experience hunter. It felt as if the Valentine special forces fireteam was denying Link any possible options of retaliation, respite, or escape, even the options he hadn't yet thought of.

Outgunned and outmaneuvered, Link slid backwards under a gap between the floor and the bottom of some machine he really didn't have any time or mood to identify, managing to let off two shots at the special forces operator attempting to hack him into two – she deftly sidestepped both shots and danced back into the darkness of cover – before managing to come out across the other side, happy that there was now something significantly large and solid enough to block gunfire and keep special forces from just rounding on Link, if at least only for a few seconds.

For all the good it did him, anyways; fighting these people, Link felt, was like having to battle Anansi: Being chased, being outgunned, being pushed into a corner, and coming too close to _far_ too many close calls with death.

Even Durandara was struggling to figure out what to do next. "Calculating tactical alternatives. _Stand by_." The tension in her disembodied voice was not comforting.

Link recalled how great it was when Durandara had accurate map readouts of the area. If she had been able to confirm that there _was_ an exit on the other side – which the JI agent dearly hoped was the case, but the AI wasn't providing – he would've disengaged from this battle altogether, pretended he was holing himself up in cover before making a break for the exit, laying some plastic explosives just before he left and detonating it to seal his escape route. Now, however, running towards what could possibly be a dead end was the last thing Link wanted; if the operators caught him in a corner with nowhere left to retreat, it would all be over.

The JI agent wondered if the special forces fireteam would just kill him right then and there on suspected charges of destroying Anansi, or simply out of spite. Having survived Anansi, Link had realized that he had actually found the idea of living rather appealing.

"Detecting automated transmission on civilian emergency radio channel," hissed Durandara suddenly as Link ducked behind a pillar and hid there. He grimaced; if that transmission was a trap or a call for reinforcements to catch him, then things were about to get ugly real fast. But even the agent was caught off-guard when the AI remarked in surprise, "It's in telegraphic code." As Durandara decoded the transmission consisting entirely of dots and dashes, short and long signals, Link reflected that not even old commercial ships used those to send distress calls anymore, and wondered what this could possibly mean. "It says…'_X-ray apple pie_'?" she made an ugly scowl, as if offended the transmission had _dared_ to waste any of her precious time and resources. "Whatever _that_ is."

But Link had froze where he was, surprised – if not shock – crossing his face. He recognized that code. He _knew_ that code. He would never forget it as long as he lived.

"Link?" whispered Durandara; that Link seemed to have had a revelation was not lost upon her as she studied the agent's reactions. "Does that mean something to you?"

While still training for Joint Intelligence agent status, a then-sixteen-year-old Link – along with eleven other trainees – had been thrown into a two-week special training regimen conducted by the military "in civilian capacity on behalf of Joint Intelligence" at a Hylian navy remote training site in the wilderness. After a week of grueling exercises, the trainees were given a set of twelve codes to memorize for a "future exercise", which contained a letter in the military alphabet followed by the name of a dessert, each corresponding to a set of orders. The ridiculous codes were used in favor of traditional military codes for such orders for the worry that there could be those amongst the trainees familiar enough with the usual military lingo to circumvent the point of this memorization exercise. That night, while the trainees were sleeping, Marines had stormed the barracks, trussed them, and led them blindfolded to helicopters that eventually dropped them off in the middle of the forest with only a map and a flashlight. It was explained in-flight that this was a surprise Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Extraction exercise – commonly known by its acronym SERE – and that they were to attempt to find a way back to the military base in six two-man teams while evading Marine soldiers sent after them in pursuit.

The exercise ended on the second night when two teams, including Link's, managed to evade pursuit and return to the remote training site; he had later learned that the other four captured teams had been subjected to practical exercises in resisting interrogation, which he and the other three successful escapees underwent two days later in more comprehensive environments. The twelve trainees, exhausted to the bone, were assembled at attention before the drill sergeant, who then explained the point of the exercise in detail. Just when it seemed as if the sergeant was to give the much-desired order to fall out and return to barracks for much-needed sleep, however, he suddenly shouted one of the codes the trainees had been taught two nights ago. Only two of the trainees remembered the code and reacted fast enough to break into a sprint while the other ten, completely tired, stood there blankly, the codes barely memorized two nights before the last thing on their minds. Link, unfortunately enough, belonged to the latter category, and – as punishment – was made with the other nine to do one hundred squats. Along with six other trainees who didn't react quickly enough to the code, Link had passed out from exhaustion before reaching a hundred. It was an unforgettable experience.

What was just as unforgettable, however, was the code that had been used that night and its corresponding order: "X-ray apple pie: Sprint forward and retrieve equipment."

Someone out there – someone who had went through the same training and remembered the same code – was out there, monitoring Link and transmitting the code both of them knew.

The only logical conclusion he could come to: There was no way Valentine forces could've known that exact phony code and use it so precisely for this situation as a trap, and that Link now had the covert assistance of someone who was either a Hylian Marine…or a Joint Intelligence agent.

It took only a moment for Link to mull over the decision; he broke into a forward sprint.

He must've temporarily reappeared in the sights of the special forces operators after him, because loud bangs from gunswords once against resounded around the chamber, but this time Link ignored them, concentrating only on a forward sprint. He vaulted over a crate before sliding under a series of pipes, which effectively killed Valentine attempts to gun him down, but the chase was clearly on again.

Sixty meters and seven seconds later, he spotted it, a belt of equipment having been left on what was otherwise an empty crate: Directional anti-personnel landmines. Effectively explosive shotguns, their detonation sent metallic spheres flying through the air at unholy velocities, turning anything soft enough in front of it – up to and including lightly-armored vehicles – into a pin cushion. Added to that was the fact that the mines were, in fact, new models, laser-tripped; anything that stepped into its field detonated the mine. They were definitely something that could discourage a pursuit, yet not so powerful that Link would have to be afraid of a cave-in in this derelict, aged hub.

That wasn't the only piece of good news: Up ahead – about forty meters up – looked to be a corridor of about that same length that ended in a staircase…leading _upwards_. The light that trickled down from above seemed to indicate that there was an exit back to the outside world after all. So he now had the means to both escape and throw off his pursuers temporarily.

Durandara picked up on that fairly quickly. "I'm moving Epona to our approximate exit location now," she announced. "Once we're back up, get on and get out."

Link didn't need to be told twice, and was already bolting for the other side. Still, even as he managed to avoid gunfire, even as he managed to keep just enough distance and cover between himself and his pursuers, even as he reached the corridor and placed the AP mine right in the middle to ensure the operators couldn't just step around it, the entire scenario gave him a bit of an unsettling feeling: Whoever was helping him _had_ to be nearby. Very close, in fact, having seen Link attempt to escape from pursuing Valentine forces, and having had enough time to prepare landmines like this.

The first mine was meant to be a deterrent, something to slow Valentine forces down, but just in case they attempted to continue pursuit recklessly, Link placed a second mine at the top of the staircase and activated its directional sensors just as Epona – remote-guided by Durandara – pulled up beside him in preparation for his getaway. That second AP mine _could_ be detected if the operators were cautious enough ascending the stairs – which Link suspected _would_ be the case after running into the first landmine – but if they tried to rush up in pursuit, they'd be in for an explosive surprise.

Trying to weave Epona through the forest wasn't the easiest thing given the density of trees, but after Link was confident that he had put some good distance between himself and the hub, he rode out of the treeline; concealment from air cover was good, but that was only if the Valentine military didn't cordon the entire woodland, and already Link was beginning to worry what went wrong. He hadn't actually _done_ anything but move up to the depot, and already special forces were onto him. Was it a Gerudo mole who blew his cover, alerted enemy forces in advance? Was he being tracked? Even the muffled bag of an AP mine detonating somewhere behind him underground did not break him out of his contemplation.

"Radio traffic shows regional forces deploying air assets to continue the search for you from the air around the forest," announced Durandara soon after Link broke the treeline. "ETA five minutes. There's a town four kilometers to the southwest called Welfare that isn't part of the AO. We should duck there for a bit until the enemy gives the search up as a bad job."

That probably meant attack helicopters. Unpleasant memories of having to deal with two of them during his escape from Hyrule City with Zelda was still fresh in his memory, and he'd rather not have to deal with another one anytime soon. He quickly turned Epona southwest, found a stretch of buildings on the horizon in his sights, located on a slightly elevated part of the plain that almost looked like a large but otherwise low hill. Link stuck to the grass and maintained distance from the roads; he was not looking forward to crossing paths with anymore Valentine forces, at least not until he destroyed Jormungand.

Welfare had the benefit of a clock tower, but while it would logically be a prime vantage point for a sniper-equipped Link, he decided against taking up a nest there, choosing a northeastern residence to hide in instead. Hiding high made it easier for one to see surrounding enemies, but it didn't make surrounding enemies searching for someone any less difficult. Furthermore, a sniper under battlefield conditions would have difficulties operating without backup against an army, and sniping was not Link's objective here; if he needed to hightail it quickly, he wanted to do so on Epona immediately, not having to traverse several flights of staircases while Valentine artillery crews could easily bring down the clock tower he was trying to get down. He managed to stow Epona into a garage and duck into the dining room of the residential building just in time, for a pair of attack helicopters appeared over the area of operations as more fireteams of Valentine forces were scrambled from the depot, beginning a search of the forest area. Hopefully, the search would _remain_ there; Link would slip away and continue east as soon as the search parties were far away enough.

For now, though, the Joint Intelligence agent laid his sniper rifle against an intact window – a vantage point overlooking the landscape down the hill and the forest – and went over to the kitchen, looking for possible things to eat; if possible, he wanted to save the MREs for until he truly needed it, so rations went on a procure-on-site basis whenever possible. Besides, he was hungry.

Rifling through the shelves, Link was fairly pleased that the kitchen was stocked with snacks; although main power to Welfare had been cut and everything in the refrigerator had gone bad, simple things like cookies and chips and bread were still packed away and left relatively untouched. Welfare was a recent conquest and not one that involved a battle; Link saw no signs of looting or wartime damage.

"Sound signature detected," Durandara suddenly whispered with urgency into Link's ear. "Someone's _inside this house_."

Instantly, Link swiveled around, drew his gunsword while keeping most of his body hidden behind a counter as cover. His blood went cold; did Valentine special forces managed to pursue him all the way here after all? Was this an ambush?

But the sound of approaching footsteps were becoming clearer now, coming from the main hallway, the living room separating that from the kitchen. He hoped Durandara could continue with audio surveillance, because if more ambushers were going to come in through the windows with flashbangs, he would be at a severe disadvantage; close-quarters combat in such environments worked heavily against him.

Except, amidst what felt very much like an adrenaline rush, a lone figure appeared slowly but non-threateningly from the hallway and into the living room, into Link's line of sight on the other side of the counter. The man had a mess of platinum blond hair just shorter than Link's, and he was dressed in what looked like civilian clothing appropriate for the season, a dark-colored turtleneck under a jacket, and dark trousers and boots to match. Slung around his shoulder was an assault rifle with a scope, and two different handguns were strapped in holsters around both sides. The man looked around, and his eyes eventually made contact with Link, but he only stood there, looking almost bored, making no indication to move or engage in hostilities with Link in any way.

And it was only after he made sure Link was taking all this in that he gave a curt nod, a small smirk, and greeted cordially, "Agent Link."

Alarm gave way to bewilderment, but that eventually gave way to relief before Link finally lowered his gunsword, sighing almost explosively as his arms dropped back down to his side and the gunsword returned into its holster. The Joint Intelligent realized that he was almost shaking as he emerged from behind the counter, the blond young man approached, and the two shook hands firmly; Link would've never expected to see a familiar face this long into this war and this deep into enemy territory, but he couldn't deny that he felt really glad and grateful that Vincent was here.

At age twenty-four, Vincent was a success story never told about how well things had turned out with Joint Intelligence having a hand in the Spencer Welfare Program. His official position was field intelligence specialist – an agent who worked in the field to deal with both intelligence gathering and on-site direct action – for Joint Intelligence's Counterinsurgency Branch, a sub-division that involved identifying and eliminating homegrown criminal and terrorist organizations…or, as Vincent occasionally sarcastically described it, "kidnapping people who hate and fear us in the middle of the night, and giving more reason for them to hate and fear us until they tell us what we want to know". His remarkably sharp intellect – a trait that he shared with his more straight-laced twin brother, Lloyd, who also worked for Joint Intelligence – was complemented by extensive combat training; he had, in fact, spent two years with the Hylian Marines to further complement that experience, which explained why he had been familiar with the "X-ray apple pie" code, and why he knew Link would respond the way he did at the transmission.

Considering both of them operated under different capacities, Link knew it wasn't exactly practical to compare himself to Vincent in terms of skill or aptitude, but the younger agent still felt Vincent was a good yardstick by which to measure himself by.

"It's good to see you too," grinned Vincent as he shook Link's gloved hand vigorously and patted him on the shoulder twice. An eye dropped down on the belt of landmines Link still carried, and Vincent nodded approvingly. "Hoped you liked the mines; Valent started shipping these to the front lines when Velvet realized they may have to shift to a defensive effort and leave explosives behind to slow us down." The older JI agent's grin grew even wider. "I'm sure no one minds me relieving them of some of their stock."

Things were becoming clear now. Now Link was sure as to where the anti-personnel mines had come from, and how Vincent was able to track him down to this building; if the older agent hadn't been watching, then he knew how the younger agent would move by virtue of both having had the same kind of training from Joint Intelligence. Link really did not want to contemplate how poorly things would have turned out had Vincent not been there when he had. That said, he wondered where Lloyd was; although the twins had always seemed a bit distant from each other, they were still brothers, and it would've been poor form for Link not to express any concern about him when Vincent had just pulled his ass out of the fire.

Being no stranger to Link's aversion to verbally communicating, Vincent caught the look, understood completely. "Lloyd's fine too, thank you," he said curtly, and the two of them moved back into the kitchen, eagerly rummaging through the shelves to look for things to eat. When the older agent caught another inquisitive look, he chuckled, "No need for an explanation. I have a fairly good idea of what has been going on."

Link, having filled his hands with enough foodstuffs to keep him going for another day, moved back with Vincent to the living room window where they could keep watch over Valentine search efforts, and gave his fellow JI agent a questioning glance, as if to say "and what idea would that be".

Vincent shrugged casually, and the two agents seated themselves beside the window. "Well, just the basics. That you had been in Garuda with her Highness, that you destroyed the Valentine ground-based armored walker known as Anansi, that you're carrying an AI around in your pocket."

When Durandara – knowing full well that her cover had been blown – materialized as a holographic body between the two JI agents, her voice sounded almost a bit angry, as if her pride at keeping a low profile had been wounded. "And just how the _hell_ did you obtain all this information?" she demanded.

Vincent gave a terse smile. "We're Joint Intelligence agents. It's our job." His gaze shifted back to Link for a moment, added, "Thanks for the birthday present, by the way; cheered Lloyd and myself up when we heard Anansi bought the farm." And that reminded Link that the twins' shared birthday had indeed been just a week – making him _twenty-five_ now, not twenty-four – coinciding with the confirmed destruction of Anansi. It was ironic, but Link wasn't about to argue that it wasn't a fitting birthday present given the circumstances. Vincent, for his part, redirected his attention at Durandara, quipped, "I'm sure you've realized that he doesn't talk much, so I guess I'll have to talk to you."

"So it seems." Durandara still seemed to be a little begrudged that Vincent had the metaphorical "first strike", but was otherwise already moving onto more important matters. "How long have you been out here?"

"Eight days. My team and I had to abandon our SIGINT mission after it was clear Hylian resistance wasn't going to hold. We found ourselves caught behind enemy lines as the enemy launched a blitzkrieg and rushed right past us." A slight but wicked smile played across Vincent's face, as if he was having fun. "That was also when we found out we actually kind of _like_ it behind enemy lines. As far as I know, there are quite a number of other JI agents sneaking around in occupied territory, gathering intelligence, making it painful for enemy forces to operate here. We regroup every now and then to discuss our game plan. The idea is that we'd be able to form a pretty formidable HUMINT network when we can restore stable communications. Even without that, though, we already have quite some information in our heads for Director Leonore."

"I've heard you've been in contact with her."

"Barely," amended Vincent, and looked grimly at the horizon. "ECM has been horrible. We just know that she survived, and so did we. The only real order she gave us was to do what we were already doing. At least, that's what we _think_ she told us. Signal was very messy. The destruction of Anansi helped things a bit – don't know why, but it did – but normal long-range communications are still close to impossible."

"I know. Director Leonore has flown from Garuda with her Highness to New Wagner, where the bulk of our forces are now stationed, but I have no way of confirming whether or not they've arrived safely."

The older Joint Intelligence agent raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Huh," he murmured, processing the information in his head before merely shrugging, accepting the intelligence, and moving on. "Didn't know that. Thanks for the tip. I'm guessing we're both in need of information. Share and share alike?"

That worked for Durandara. "We're on a mission to make contact with the zorans," she replied, her voice carrying just a slight edge to it. "Word is that they have intelligence on the second Valentine superweapon, Jormungand."

Neither artificial intelligence's tone nor the sentence's implications were lost upon Vincent, who chose to blink for a bit while looking calmly at Link. "This _is_ after you just destroyed Anansi, right?" he made sure.

"I think we've all been manipulated by Emi of MICO." Durandara's voice was appropriately flat.

"Huh," the JI agent made an understanding – if not slightly contemptuous – sound, rubbed the bridge of his nose. "_That_ old witch? Explains a lot." His smile was resigned. "I'm guessing that comes with a not-too-subtle suggestion to sink Jormungand as well?"

"Only if it gets to that point," she answered tersely. "We don't actually have orders from her Highness, so there's a degree to which we can safely _stop_ taking 'suggestions'." The hologram crossed her arms, shifted her "weight" onto the side on one foot. "That's about it on our side, really; is there anything you care to share?"

Again, Vincent looked out again into the distance; Link knew the older JI agent was both keeping a lookout and making a point. "Well, you may have noticed, but trying to get around in a special forces uniform isn't going to be _that_ easy anymore," said the blonde. "After you destroyed Anansi, word is that Valent put together a small intelligence team to figure out exactly who you are, what you did, and how to prevent you or anyone else from doing it again. There are revised operational protocols for special forces which went into effect not too long ago, I think. The _good_ news is that they can no longer operate with quite the autonomy they once had, which pisses them off and also makes them about a third less effective. Admittedly, though, it makes them less easy pickings for the JI agents out here. The bad news is that there will be as many checks on who really _is_ special forces as is reasonable."

Both Link and Durandara made a face. "So our disguise is useless now?" the latter asked; if this was the case, they might as well just terminate an impossible mission right there and report home.

The JI agent tilted his head as he studied Link's fatigues, answered, "No, I say keep it. They're not going out of their way to check every special forces operative in sight. It's the only way you're guaranteed not to attract even _more_ attention by running around with a gunsword, anyways. My suggestion is wear that uniform, be inconspicuous, stay away from checkpoints, and hope you're lucky. I can't be sure about this, but chances are not everyone has committed these new protocols to heart, and you can bet there are some special forces members pissed off about it enough to be resistant to these changes. Besides, how else are you going to justify an army first lieutenant running around without reporting to an outfit immediately?"

"We'll keep that in mind," the holographic head nodded once. "Anything else to share?"

"That was the first thing off the top of my head operations-wise. There are other little details, but they're all pretty trivial, nothing Link can't think of without having to see it. Other things…well." Vincent shrugged. "Better leave that at the command level."

Given that he had not actually been around often while Durandara had been left with Zelda in the aftermath of Anansi's destruction, Link wondered if the AI was, in fact, _part_ of the "command level", but Durandara seemed to accept Vincent's suggestion, added, "It sounds like you've been following the enemy for a while. Any clue as to why they're fighting this war to begin with?"

"Nothing concrete, but…" Frowning, Vincent pressed his lips together as he contemplated how to put his thoughts in words. "There's been a mass exodus of Hylian civilians who don't want to find themselves on the wrong side of the MLR. As of my last hearing, there are three major civilian evacuation sites: Fort Regner, Charlotte, and New Wagner."

The first and last cities sounded familiar. "Fort Regner was overrun," answered the AI, and Link instantly recalled the misadventure that had been in his way on the road to October City, where he had run into Hylian infantry attempting to provide armed resistance against occupying Valentine forces. "If I had to guess, however, if the 107th Infantry Battalion managed to survive, they'll probably take the evacuation to New Wagner. I have no idea about Charlotte, though." Durandara looked intense. "I'm guessing this conversation is leading up to why Valentine forces are shipping civilians west?"

"You've been well-informed," nodded Vincent gravely. "I don't have the '_why_' part done yet, but I do know that they've been putting a lot of effort into rounding up the civilians that haven't evacuated and shipping them back to Valent via any means possible: Trains, buses, planes. Resistance has been kept at bay by a heavy military presence. Lots of guards. They've dedicated a _lot_ of resources for this, and have gone to great pains to ensure that transport infrastructure remains intact." He made a face, as if in consternation. "Still, Valentine forces have been…_respectful_, I guess. I don't see any signs of mistreatment. They're ensuring that the 'prisoners', if I can even call them such, receive sufficient food and water. A conversation I've eavesdropped on says the end destinations for the civilians are six major 'settlements' – I'm thinking camps – somewhere between the Valentine heartlands and the border. I got the impression that they were constructed in the years before the war, and that they're metropolis-scale, meant to support and sustain large populations." The older JI agent's eyes narrowed intensely. "They've been planning this for a while."

Durandara seemed positively confused and incredulous. "What could they possibly get from that?" she questioned.

Vincent's immediate answer hinted at him having given this some thought before. "My first answer would be cultural indoctrination…at least if we were only to look at the ends. But if we look at the means, the feasibility of that is…close to none." A shake of the head emphasized that point. "Not on this scale, not in this situation."

It seemed as if the realization that they were getting no closer to any answers had weighed fully on Durandara's slumping holographic shoulders as she sighed. "Another day," she muttered, echoing Link's sentiments, "another mystery."

Vincent could only nod solemnly as he and Link glanced out the window once more, watching the helicopters slowly hover away as Valentine ground forces searched another segment of the forest. "Something like that," he concurred quietly.

* * *

With the kind of work wartime provided military intelligence – and, indeed, every organ of the armed forces – sleep schedules were shot. For the members of a fast-moving, independent investigation with the pressure of wartime success on the line, this was especially true; when the military phone connected to her handheld computer rang and roused Alexandria from her sleep, it was already nearing noon. The time the major spent investigating took up all the time she otherwise had, meaning sleep could only come when she was in transit between locations.

The transport plane Alexandria had hitched a ride on was returning to the Hylian-Valentine border, the root of the vast majority of Valentine's main supply routes. Having decided that she had concluded most of her work in Hyrule – at least the work she could do before the entire investigation area was overrun by retaliating Hylian and Gerudo forces – the major had figured that her remaining efforts would be best spent running simulations back in Velvet to ensure Quetzalcoatl's security. Given that Hyrule was now backed against a corner, the major military threat came from Gerudo, and the sabotage of Quetzalcoatl – which was a major component of Valent's absolute defensive line before enemy forces could penetrate Valentine borders – would be a catastrophic blow, giving Gerudo land forces an attack corridor into the Valentine mainland. Alexandria would not let this happen.

Rubbing her eyes, Alexandria suppressed a groan as she gave her head a quick jolt, stimulating her brain in the attempt to waken herself. As she presently operated entirely on the authority of the National Defense Committee, the major knew the list of people who could contact her via military phone was small. When the computer showed the incoming caller was not on her contact list, however, Alexandria found a sense of unease settling upon her tired mind; whoever was trying to reach her had gone through a lot of effort to do so, and that didn't necessarily bode well.

She sighed, steeling herself and picked up the phone. _Best get it over with_, the major told herself as she spoke into the receiver, "Major Alexandria." Stealing a glance out the window, she surmised that the terrain below suggested they were still over Hylian airspace.

"Alexandria. It's Ben."

Alexandria could tell without the introduction; she and Ben had been captains in their special forces unit before the former transferred into military intelligence. Despite reporting to new chains of command, she kept in touch with her old unit, and knew Ben had made major a not long after Alexandria herself received the same promotion in intelligence. "Ben," she spoke into the phone with a small smile that familiarity and nostalgic camaraderie offered. "Good to hear you're still alive."

Ben's voice was dry and anything but amused. "Plenty of people are pissed at the new protocols you wrote for special forces, you know."

From anyone else, that might've sounded like a rebuke. From Major Ben, it was just pleasantries. "And why would you think I wrote them?" asked Alexandria coolly, noting that the years in military intelligence seemed to have sharpened her wit a bit more than was necessary.

"Field officers have friends, Alex. I thought you'd remember that."

Alexandria made off with a small chuckle. "You're not _too_ angry, are you?"

Sighing, Ben sounded mildly resigned. "Honestly, this isn't entirely a bad time for us to dig in and defend," he admitted. "Not exactly a role we're cut out for, though. And waiting for orders just isn't how we do things."

"I know, I'm sorry," replied the intelligence major. She was so on both accounts; she had trained with them, fought with them, knew how they thought, knew how they operated. Undoubtedly it felt like a slap in the face of the continent's deadliest military unit, and that it came from one of their own – former or otherwise – made it even bitterer. "But those were orders from the National Defense Committee."

"Yeah, our old boys and girls know that," the special forces major allowed, dropping the edge in his voice. Alexandria missed the way special forces operators messed with each other; although she had always been an officer in special forces and held onto a higher code of conduct as expected of her rank and family prestige, everyone in military intelligence was too strung up. "They're not _too_ angry with you, if that's any comfort."

"Good to hear," responded Alexandria, leaning against her seat on the plane. But Ben wouldn't have gone through the trouble of contacting her on a hard-to-reach military phone to make house calls. "I get the feeling you're not just calling to check up on me, though."

Ben gave a grunt of approval, as if satisfied his former comrade hadn't lost the ability to think quickly on-the-go. "I'm not. Katie tapped me earlier this morning over the wire; three of her operators ran into what looked like a guy masquerading as one of us."

The fatigue and sleepiness that had crept up on Alexandria again after being woken up from so little sleep had threatened to overtake her once more, but Ben's words immediately caused Alexandria to stiffen, and she would've liked to imagine her mental self dragging that fatigue and sleepiness behind the head and shooting them twice in the chest and once in the head…had she not suddenly become a coil of alertness and concentration with no room for imagining such trivial mental imagery. "Was he using a gunsword?" Alexandria demanded. This was a breakthrough, and it was a miracle that it was special forces who found this possible infiltrator first, given how sparsely and thinly they were spread across the MLR continent-wide.

"That's the word. Katie wanted me to pass it on to you directly. Figured you might need a head-start against Juno, so she's putting off official channels for now, and will do so for another six hours."

Alexandria felt a surge of warm, comradely affection; transferred or not, special forces operators looked after their own. "I owe you one, Ben," she declared. "You _and_ Katie, so tell her to call me up on a favor anytime. I take it we didn't capture him."

"They didn't," Ben answered cautiously. "He fled to an uncharted underground complex we weren't aware of and set up mines. The operators managed a controlled detonation with no casualties, but your man got away."

_Slippery bastard_, Alexandria thought, but now that the man had been spotted, it made narrowing down possible area of operations easier. "Where did her operators run into the target?"

"Regular army has a supply depot set up just a few klicks northeast of a Hylian town called Welfare. Her operators were temporarily attached to that outfit; that's where the infiltrator broken through."

Nodding, Alexandria used her computer to pull up maps of Hyrule, sent a search query for Welfare, but when the computer revealed where Welfare was located on the Hylian national map, the intelligence major's eyes widened, her lips parted, and the grip on her phone tightened with a sudden surge of revelation and urgency.

"He's going after _Jormungand_," Alexandria whispered to no one in particular…and then, a second later, was bolting for the cockpit of the transport aircraft. Before the bewildered flight crew could stop her, before the pilot and co-pilot in the cockpit could ask any questions, Alexandria had already shoved her handheld computer into the pilot's face with grim determination, displaying the highest possible general protocols for the Valentine armed forces. "Pilot, National Defense Committee authority. I'm ordering an emergency flight reroute _now_."

* * *

**Exoria File #021  
Vincent (Abridged Career Service Vitae)**

"Name: Vincent  
Rank: Field Intelligence Specialist  
Age: 24 (born January 27, 1482)  
Birthplace: San Joan, Hyrule  
Service Number: 1045732V  
Date of Enlistment: March 15, 1500

Background: Older twin brother to Lloyd, also currently a field intelligence specialist in Joint Intelligence. Parents Mark and Martha, and sister Eli killed in car accident in 1487; lack of immediate family made them eligible for benefits under the Spencer Welfare Program.

Career: Discovered and recruited by Joint Intelligence in 1496, received training until formal induction into Joint Intelligence in 1500 as field agent. Received consistently exceptional marks on all assessments. Requested and granted permission to enlist on a tour with the Hylian Marines in 1501, returned to Joint Intelligence jurisdiction in 1503, rotated to the Counterinsurgency Branch in same year. Promoted to field intelligent analyst in 1505, participated in highly classified counterinsurgency operations (see unabridged CSV for details) until promotion to field intelligence specialist in 1506.

Assessment: Exceptionally talented and well-trained Joint Intelligence agent. Expert in hand-to-hand combat, wilderness survival, infiltration, and deep cover, with urban assault, heavy weapons, and explosives training. Noted to place high value on personal loyalty. Concerns expressed by co-workers over seeming lack of patriotism; psychiatrically dismissed as acute awareness of geopolitical realities and accompanying cynicism. Relationship with twin brother Lloyd deemed distant.

Recommendation: Fast-track to intelligence supervisor of the Counterinsurgency Branch, with possibilities of further promotions.

Last updated December 25, 1506"

* * *

Author's Note: Chapter Twenty ended up not being quite as short as I hoped it would be, so I haven't quite managed to compromise the leakage that Chapter Nineteen provided yet. Still, I'll try to gradually shorten chapters until we're back onto the eighteen-pages-per-chapter mark; OCD can really mess up my mentality sometimes. Not sure what to say right now otherwise. Pacing has been slow lately, I know, but there are a lot more players for the Jormungand arc, and I'm trying to keep it all comprehensive. I'm getting somewhere with all this, really.

Spudforce: _These Special Forces sound more like the US Army Rangers, an elite light infantry outfit capable of performing special ops. Also known to be Hooah to the extreme and viewing regular units with a less than favorable view. The US Army SF aka Green berets and tier 1 units like the Delta's are true badasses who don't need to be hooah and flaunt their status, because everyone already knows how freaking badass they are. I would even compare Hyrule's JI to the US military's tier 1, who deal with the blackest of black ops._

The United States' Delta Force or the British Special Air Service (SAS) are actually probably good comparisons to Valentine special forces; they're very much an elite military organization, they're very much badass, and they don't need to flaunt their status at all. Still, there are significant differences between Valentine special forces and real life military special forces, in that Valentine special forces are afforded more autonomous leeway, and act as a compromise between black operations and fast-acting conventional warfare units, the latter of which they're also quite good at. Joint Intelligence, however, is _not_ a military unit at all, and would be better compared to with the CIA, although it is worth noting here that, in real life, the CIA is strictly a fact-finding intelligence organ, and doesn't have its own cadre of professional assassins (or, alternatively, it's what the CIA _wants_ us to think, but, in general, it's more efficient to pull operators from military special forces for "wetworks"). So Joint Intelligence would really kind of be something akin to the real life CIA meeting Treadstone or Blackbriar from the _Jason Bourne_ film trilogy (not the books); a lot of JI's personnel are trained to be the best of two worlds, combat-capable agents who are also intelligence specialists that collect and process information. One begins to suspect that James Bond comparisons are inevitable, although JI field agents are generally more geared towards HUMINT operations than assassination missions compared to the double-0 agents of _James Bond_. Ultimately, though, trying to compare Joint Intelligence with Valentine special forces is probably not a great idea, because they function in two entirely different capacities; you're trying to compare an elite soldier to an elite intelligence specialist, both of which do two very different things for a living (although there are plenty of areas that overlap).

It's also worth noting here that Hylian Joint Intelligence in actuality is not its own intelligence agency, but the umbrella organization managing all the other intelligence organizations in the country (a fair comparison would be how the Department of Defense is not an actual military, but controls the entire United States military). However, it has its own human resources pool (and other resources as well), hence the highly-trained Joint Intelligence agents.

Jokeruto: _HA! Like to see Link talk his way out of that one. I wonder what the history is between Juno and Alexandria, don't they know not cooperating and sharing info is more often than not detrimental to the whole? I would expect officers of that caliber to put aside personal feelings and work together for the good of the whole, as is expected in any modern military. Interesting that this verse seems to be behind in military, I mean the Hylians wearing blue? That's worse than the US Army's much despised ACU's! And from the way Link seems to be able to cut through Valentine soldiers and Alexandria with the Hylians, I'm guessing they don't wear much personal body armor compared to most western nations today? Another curiosity, since it seems to be restricted to one continent, what's the respective population numbers of the nations?_

Admittedly, it's not just about history between Alexandria and Juno. Some people _do_ simply work faster when working alone. Alexandria is definitely one of them; Juno arguably only does so to claim credit (to her credit, although she's a glory hound, she _does_ get her own results), but you have to admit results aren't half-bad either. The national military wearing their own colors not only represents their own national colors, but also certain specializations. Tech-dependent Hyrule specializes more in urban warfare, all-round Gerudo uses brown to blend in with the desert, and Valent's green shows a lot of wilderness warfare training. Still, though, I totally admit a lot of this is largely an artist license I took up; I decided the colors first, justified everything else later. If it's any comfort, the colors are pretty faded, and don't stand out much. Also, in terms of body armor, soldiers here _do_ wear them, but most of Link's gun kills have been largely head shots or made with a sniper rifle than honestly overpowers bulletproof vests – they don't block everything, and are only largely effective against small arms fire (read: small-caliber handguns) or rounds fired from _really_ far away that has lost its inertia during bullet travel. Furthermore, bulletproof vest are generally pretty useless against knives and blades, and given how very few soldiers on the continents carry gunswords – heck, virtually modern soldiers today carry combat knives – your infantryman isn't going to be wearing plate armor anytime soon.

Lastly: I don't have an _exact_ population census just yet, but if we're talking broad strokes regarding numbers here, the entire continent – roughly the size of the continental United States, minus Alaska – has a population of about three hundred million, which is roughly evenly split amongst the three countries. Generally, you have a higher Gerudo population than Hyrule and a lower Valentine population, but these numbers usually don't get grossly discrepant.

Ngandu the Croc: _Again, really long review here, so I can't put it up here without stretching the author's note to an ungodly long length. For those interested, please go ahead and read the review page._

Jessica represents one of the possible romantic interests for Link in _Exoria_, and also the one he probably finds easiest to relate to at the moment. They are both intelligence agents being used as pawns, both capable at what they do, and both wishing this war would get itself over with already. Something that I may have alluded to previously but not directly stated yet (although it'll eventually be stated) is that Link is deliberately avoiding what could become a romantic relationship with Zelda. He's not dumb, and is actually fairly politically savvy; he knows that a bodyguard marrying his charge – his royal charge – would probably not be well-received by the public as a whole, and that Zelda – and Hyrule, for that matter – is much better off marrying one of Hyrule's social elite. Assuming, you know, there's any of them still left. But, in any case, Jessica is certainly "easier"; they share similar jobs, they have similar outlooks, and although Jessica's the daughter of a provincial governor, that's probably still going to be easier than a crown princess going queen-to-be.

I'm a bit amused that you're calling Emi "scarface"; it actually reminds me of the nickname "Fry-Face", given to Balalaika of Black Lagoon (ex-Soviet paratrooper who fought in the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and sustained burn wounds down the side of her face and more). I do think Emi's older, though, and less of a war addict, but a certain comparison could be found there, one supposes. And, of course, you already know my stance on revealing information on the Valentine superweapons, so all I can promise is that all the mysteries about them will be answered at the halfway point of _Exoria_, just as they usually are in your standard _Legend of Zelda_ plot.

The war has, in many ways, forced Zelda to grow…which is saying a lot, considering she had grown from inheriting the kingdom two years ago at age sixteen. There's a lot of growing bitterness and better handling of that bitterness; compare, for example, her openly bitter reactions in the prologue following the death of Link's predecessor as Zelda's personal bodyguard to her tightly-controlled reactions in the past few chapters despite the fact that things are a lot worse and she's much more frustrated. Which is why Morgan felt a bit ashamed; he's a genuinely nice guy for a military general, but even he now admits that he kind of saw Zelda as a princess to be coddled. Perhaps not that strongly worded, but the ultimate gist of it is that, given her age and position, it's easy to underestimate a girl being forced into shoes that may seem too large for her.

Link is honestly someone who's been around the block. The orphanage he was raised in was fairly well-run as alluded to in Chapter Twenty, but that doesn't put a blindfold over his eyes regarding things he's seen in his younger years. There's also the fact that he's worked with Joint Intelligence, and comparatively worse things have happened in the course of his career which he witnessed; as much as we hate to admit it, these kind of things ultimately get easier (well, usually, but there are some people for which they never do get easier). In the past, however, Link was well enough leaving these kind of things alone; as a child, it always happened to someone else, and as an agent, there were more important things at hand than to intervene. Lily was the first time in Link's life in which he actually took responsibility for someone's life of his own accord, and failed in that regard: Lily died. He's angry at himself over it – like most people in his situation, he feels that surely he could've done more or something different to have saved Lily – but ultimately this is not something that's going to throw him off his game or send him into bouts of PTSD; it'll mostly be an old regret. Unless, of course, something happens in the story that does throw Link into a bout of severe upset, in which he'd probably be a lot more suspect to less happy thoughts. Either way, it wouldn't be a stretch to assume Lily would be mentioned again sometime in the future. And, on that vein, it wouldn't be a stretch to assume he's going to be less eager to jump into situations where he has no good guarantee of working out success.

The zorans will obviously factor greatly into how Link will take down Jormungand. As for how this is going to happen – and the steps leading up to it, for that matter – I suppose you'll see. It won't be rainbows and sunshine, though; this is going to be a fairly different meeting with the zorans that most _Zelda_ fans are used to.

Thank you for the great review as always.

Re-con: _I'm afraid this is where you fic is going to take a down turn ... the AI thingy is too how you say mary sue. Really its seems your doing what some authors are prone to do, make an invention or character and give them to much detail. If you want to keep up the vibe and it feel of the story you should make sure to keep the AI sidelined. Since it isn't a hero or an important character -.- it also gives the story an unrealistic feel. _

_The first eight chapters have been fantastic..._

Durandara has always been something I've had to balance out, just as I have had to balance out many elements and themes of _Exoria_ while keeping in mind that this is a _Legend of Zelda_ fic. I have noticed that your review was submitted for Chapter Nine, and I'd otherwise really like to note that you probably have not seen enough of what Durandara can and cannot do in the later chapters, but I recognize that this is not easily handled, and – in the eyes of some, or perhaps even many – I have overstepped certain boundaries. Still, even if Durandara _is_ able to come up with certain solutions, I have done what I can to ensure that her solutions only _barely_ make it, and Link still has to fight for his life to ensure he's going to get anywhere. I'd argue that Durandara _is_ a fairly important character; it's the _only_ sapient – not just sentient – artificial intelligence in the world of _Exoria_, and powered by magic – a force that has not been seen in centuries except in Hyrule's royal bloodline. I would like to otherwise think I'm justified in this, but it's really a subjective perspective.

Still, I appreciate you telling me this, and I'll do my best to keep an eye on Durandara in the future.

Jelly Bean Girl: _Well, after 20 days and a half, I have finally become up to date on Exoria. _

_..._

_what else to say... ! I was wondering how you were going include items such as the Master Sword and Light arrows, or if you were even going to include them... pipe bombs could replace the bulbous bombs of the zelda games... I would think you would need some kind of fancy convertible submarine in order to defeat J... J... you know wat I mean. Link could also just stand on a platform and hit it as it comes by, as the superweapons have shown to have animalistic fury, and perhaps will take a bite out of link... then again... I have no idea wat kind of animal J is modeled after... I'm thinking a kind of squid that can shoot multiple lazers at once with all of its tentacles and such, and link has to disable them somehow through the use of a new item, such as a boomerang, only not a boomerang since this is in modern terms... damaged enough squid would leak black oil, making Link's vision impaired if he is underwater or giving j camoflouge when Link's on a platform..._

_I don't know what I'm saying anymore..._

_But I'm guessing J is actually more serpent like now... oh well..._

_ON TO THE CHARACTERS._

_My top favorite characters are Durandara, Emi, and Manee/Sira (Manee and Sira has a slash since they are probably gonna be grouped together periodically in the story... and they're lovers) I wish Danielle showed up once more in the omake though, just to show that she's safe but I'm thoroughly satisfied anyway. Durandara is rich, as in character, bringing moments of humor and making the mood a bit less... bleak... I don't think she's really annoying at all, she's obviously essential to Exoria, replacing Link's need to speak at certain parts of the story... Emi has an eyepatch so... yeah... Manee/Sira are memorable too, since they both have unique names and backgrounds/personalities that makes them easy to remember._

_I hope you notice that most of the ones that I mentioned there is OCs... cause tht's what I'm gonna talk about next... again_

_You have a lot of OCs in your story, which is okay~ but I can't help but feel that your going a bit overboard with it... only 4 characters are from the actual game... well 5 if you count Epona... but she's a motorcycle... as I've said, maybe include some other characters later in Exoria? your choice, I just have trouble remembering them all... Epona would be considered an it, no?_

_I feel kinda sorry for Steven... though it indicates that he's gonna do something important later... I think..._

_Link is screwed considering the events o the last bits of this chapter, The 1st investigative militart- whatever! might have been too... smart? I mean, I don't even know how they got so close to the truth already... but anyway, Link is gonna need to kill some people or it's the part where Link goes undercover in the special forces... somehow..._

_I hope to see some zorans soon, to be reminded that this is still the Zelda universe where the games took place... It's hinted that the zora had been/are being discriminated against, b/c of their fishy traits... but there were no harsh feelings in any of the games so maybe you can hint at wat may have caused this, and if your gonna say something about the "a.s.r" timeline thing than don't bother..._

_Congratulations, Exoria has wheedled the longest review I've ever written... ever..._

_(Hope you update soon :U)_

And I'm very much honored this has invited the longest review from you ever.

Although animal motifs were easy to draw with Anansi, I may not follow the exact same scheme for Jormungand, which I suspect will resemble something more of a futuristic submarine. For reference, however, Jormungand is a sea serpent of Norse mythology. As I have mentioned before, the zorans will factor very heavily into how Link will manage to take out a fleet-destroying submarine.

I understand that Durandara seems to be something of a divisive character, so I'm glad that you find her useful and character-rich as opposed to something very much annoying. I'm also glad that you like Manee and Sira, and not just because I'm worried about how homosexuality is perceived in this story. Emi seems like an odd choice, but I was very much amused by the eyepatch comment. As for the reason behind the large number of original characters…the thing here is that I have been trying to stick with reoccurring characters of the _Zelda_ series, foremost among them Link, Zelda, Impa, and Ganondorf…and, of course, Epona. The issue here, I think, is that new characters are being introduced in every _Zelda_ game anyways, many of them ultimately being of no real consequence, and I think I'm doing what I can do bring back old faces to keep close to _Zelda _roots while keeping the universe relatively modern and believable. For example, I truly would not be able to justify Dark Link making an appearance here, unless he were to come back as some kind of cyborg…and that just wouldn't work in a setting like _Exoria_.

The 1st Special Investigative Unit is meant to be intelligent. Its members are handpicked specifically by the National Defense Committee to investigate the backbone of their war. This is as if the Joint Chiefs of Staff – the heads of the Department of Defense short of the Secretary of Defense in the United States – personally selected the best people they had to figure out why their nuclear weapons are being sabotaged. They're meant to be intelligent, they're meant to be able to figure things out within a very short amount of time. They just wouldn't be a special investigative unit otherwise. Steven's intelligent, but the problem is that he's very much out of his league when compared to veterans like Alexandria and Juno, who are just as intelligent – if not more so – and have that much more experience under their belt.

As for the zorans…I suspect they will make their first appearance either in the next chapter, or the one after. We'll have to see, won't we?

Thank you very much for your review.


	23. Chapter Twenty-One

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Valentine fatigues were far from ghillie suits, but being colored green still allowed Link to reasonably fade into the fields of tall grass west of Welfare, working as natural camouflage where Hylian blue uniforms worked well in urban warfare. At least, that _seemed_ to be the case, for even as he slowly and silently crawled through the fields, he counted it as a blessing that the eight Valentine solders moving east down the road west of Welfare had not yet noticed the presence of an infiltrator lying stomach-down in the grass.

None of the soldiers, moving west-to-east towards Welfare, were moving particularly close to Link, but he still found himself holding his breath when the formation of Valentine soldiers, loosely scattered as they walked down both sides of the desolate freeway in what must've been a regular patrol, began to pass his rough location. The Hylian infiltrator willed himself to stay as still as possible, not even bothering to try to raise his head just enough to look over the grass and see where the enemy was at, knowing that even snipers using ghillie suits out here didn't offer complete invisibility at close-range, and that his uniform certainly wouldn't come close.

But, thankfully, the patrol seemed more intent on focusing on threats on the horizon or at firefight range than down on their feet. That, and the closest enemy soldier to Link eventually passed him with about ten meters to spare; the grass obscured the agent from that soldier's vision, and Link finally drew breath as he realized that all eight soldiers were now east of his current location, allowing the JI agent to be right behind their formation…a formation Link began to trail shortly after as he crawled through the grass, remaining as invisible as possible.

The sun was hovering just a bit above the eastern horizon. Morning had fully settled in.

Vincent was specifically in Welfare because enemy caches of supplies sent from Valentine factories and storages – from ammunition to fuel to food – would be driven by convoy down the enemy main supply route from the west. The convoy would eventually reach the supply depot kilometers northeast of Welfare, the same one where Link had his run-in with special forces, and drop off its payload there. The logistics were simple: If the convoy didn't reach the supply depot with its cargo, then all enemy forces in the region would be undersupplied, and logistics were the backbone of every army.

With Link present as well, however, the situation presented two unique opportunities: For the ambush of the incoming supply convoy to go faster and be more lethal, and for Vincent to draw attention southwards with a noisy retreat. Enemy reinforcements were going to be deployed to the area once Vincent destroyed the convoy anyways, so the Joint Intelligence agents decided that enemy reinforcements were going to be deployed on _their_ terms. Link would continue on northwest towards his objective with a bit more ease, knowing that regional forces were going to be more preoccupied with hunting Vincent, who – hopefully – would be able to take care of himself even in the face of inevitably lopsided odds.

"Alright," came Vincent's voice over the earpiece Link had been given just before the two Joint Intelligence officers started on the daring maneuver of theirs. "They're past you. Keep trailing behind the one that just passed you. Wait for my go to take him out."

From a grassy knoll almost two hundred meters away from Link's position to the southeast, Vincent was flat on the ground below a tree where he kept watch with a silenced sniper rifle – one that Link had temporarily passed to him, seeing as to how the younger JI agent needed to lose excess weight for the stealth operation anyways – keenly monitoring the movements of all eight Valentine infantrymen progressively making their patrol eastwards. It was a complication that had made itself apparent before the two Joint Intelligence operatives could even begin setting up their ambush for the supply convoy, and there was little margin of error. They needed to take out the patrol if they were to adequately prepare for and execute the ambush.

It wasn't going to be a walk in the park; two JI agents in a battlefield out of their areas of expertise against eight Valentine regulars trained for wartime situations such as these wasn't exactly a fair fight. The only advantages the Hylians had – which certainly weren't numbers, wartime training, or equipment – were surprise and stealth…and, in Vincent's case, range. They would have to capitalize entirely on those pluses to survive the encounter. If there was any comfort Link could derive from the situation, it was that he and Vincent were _very_ good at surprise and stealth.

Except while Link wasn't sure if he heard the rapidly-approaching sound first or Durandara's warning of it, the AI suddenly hissed through the earpiece, "Enemy gunship on approach."

"I see it," Vincent confirmed.

_It never rains when it could pour_, Link thought, scowling unpleasantly. The situation was difficult enough as it was, but a heavily-armed rotary aircraft had to show up _now_?

"Link, _stay down_."

He wasn't exactly complaining, but Link found it curious that Durandara had the penchant of telling him of some fairly obvious things, such as staying down within the cover of the grass when there was a helicopter gunship hovering above oneself. It wasn't as if he intended to jump up and wave at the aircraft. The JI agent was almost tempted to remind Durandara that, days before her activation, he had barely managed to emerge victorious and – much more importantly – alive after having been chased by two attack helicopters in Hyrule City. True, there was only one helicopter here, but that was already one too many.

On that note, as the helicopter seemed to slow and decelerate, Link, risking a subtle look upwards, saw that the gunship – eight-and-a-half tons of hardened steel sculpted smoothly onto a seventeen-meter-long frame bristling with weapons and possessing the capability of transporting just more than half a dozen infantrymen – was different from the aforementioned attack helicopters in Hyrule City. Although the terms "attack helicopters" and "gunships" were virtually synonymous, it was probably more accurate to say that an attack helicopter was a subcategory of gunships, which could otherwise be defined as a heavily-armed helicopter. However, where attack helicopters were sleek machines expected to make fast, strafing runs to drop as much ordinance within as short a time as possible, gunships were considered to be bulkier and more armored counterparts that could put down sustained fire over an area for a while.

But whereas Link had expected the gunship to simply fly over and be on its way, after a while, the sound of the rotors, the lack of its diminishing sound as it went off into the distance, almost seemed to suggest that the helicopter was hovering right above their position. Which probably _was_ the case, and a very worrying one at that, but Link didn't dare to try and look up in fear of giving away his position. He was not about to shoot down any gunships here. Duranara, apparently realizing that the JI agent was being overly cautious, quickly confirmed, "It's stopping."

"It's not angled at you," Vincent offered over the radio. "I don't think they've engaged thermal."

"Or they don't _have_ thermal," suggested Durandara hopefully; she had no data on newer Valentine helicopter gunship models either way. If that was true, however, it meant Link was virtually a ghost in the field so long as he didn't move, merely another patch of green in a very large patch of green.

Mercifully, none of the gunship's guns seemed to be trained on the area yet, a weapons safety measure. The gunship crew saw only a Valentine patrol that _could_ be an infiltration team, after all, and the last report anyone wanted to file was that the gunner of a helicopter gunship accidently hit the fire controls and killed one of their own because the guns happened to be angled towards the patrol on the ground.

From where he remained flat in the field, Link thought he heard the helicopter slowly move away in a certain direction, but he kept absolutely still, not even venturing a look up, relying on Durandara to be his eyes in the sky. "It's going into a holding pattern," the AI quickly declared, and Link imagined the gunship circling the rough area, slowly hovering in a wide circle around the patrol to scope out the entire area and check for better shots.

The tone of grim satisfaction was evident in Vincent's voice. "Good."

The tone of deadpan bewilderment was evident in Durandara's voice. "_Good_?"

"Don't bother looking up, Link, I'll keep watch from here," continued the older JI agent. "Just wait for my queue. There's one infantryman about twelve meters to your southwest, moving east down the road. He…sorry, _she's_ trailing behind the group."

"Are you two _crazy_?" the AI snapped, not sure whether she should be angry or incredulous.

But Link had already understood Vincent's intentions before Durandara, realizing that the gunship provided a curious flexibility towards how he could begin eliminating the members of the enemy patrol, even if his timing was now severely limited. With twelve meters between himself and the closest infantrywoman, Link had no problems increasing the speed of his crawl drastically, almost three times faster. So long as he remained behind the patrol and beneath the grass, he had a semblance of invisibility…but, more importantly, as Durandara suddenly realized, the sound of the rotors masked the sound of Link's approach.

"Okay," Vincent's voice was tight with concentration as he kept watch through a sniper scope. "Keep with her, wait for it…"

Link kept a safe distance of two meters between himself and the infantrywoman he was tailing, maintained speed…

"_Now_."

The overwhelming sounds of a spinning rotor, even as the helicopter was angled away at a distance in a holding pattern, was also _just_ enough to give Link a greater range of methods to execute his kills, giving him room to make _just_ a bit of sound in return for greater lethality of his kills. His gunsword came up in longsword mode, and the enemy infantrywoman did not hear the rustle of grass behind her as Link stood up and slit the woman's throat from behind, nor did her comrades hear her gurgled attempts to scream out with a throat full of blood and her body being pulled down to the ground, both sounds having been lost beneath the sounds of the rapid spinning of a helicopter gunship's rotor. Both Link and his victim dropped into the tall grass, their fatigues blending back in with the fields.

The Valentine soldier attempted to make a dying scuffle – an attempt to fight back against her assailant – that could've been heard by her comrades had the helicopter not been nearby. Link made a quick thrust of her gunsword's blade into her heart and spine. A few seconds afterwards, her body went limp, lifeless.

Link waited a moment of a status report, moving away slightly from the body to ensure that the blood from the enemy's severed throat wasn't going to stain on his uniform. He was honestly a lot more worried about whether or not the gunship would notice; it stood a higher chance of having a swiveling field of view than the patrol on the ground. After about five seconds, however, Vincent confirmed, "You're good, they didn't notice a thing. Next tango, fifteen, twenty meters northeast, moving east. No, wait, he's stopped. Stay put, this one's mine." It was an easy shot for a sniper with a virtually nonexistent margin of error, less risky than having Link do so from the ground. The whisper of a silenced, subsonic bullet passing overhead was preceded only by a faint sound of metal passing violently through the skull, and followed only by a body hitting the grass. "Good night. Okay, next target is south of the road. When I say so, I want you to sprint across the road and hit the dirt once you get to grassy cover."

Link obeyed, but once he got to the edge of the grass, close enough to see the freeway before him, but when he stopped to wait for Vincent's signal to indicate it was safe to sprint across the asphalt towards the other side of tall grass, Durandara announced just as the sound of helicopter rotors increased once more, "Gunship's circling back around. Stay down."

The nervousness towards the possibility that the gunship had noticed something was wrong was there, but, once again, the helicopter simply circled around and flew right over Link's position, doing another slow, hovering flyby. None of its weapons or apparatuses looked like they were angled towards him, indicating the Hylian infiltrator was probably safe.

"Any clue what it's doing?" Vincent asked.

"I can't tap into their channels cleanly, but the gunship seems to be confirming the patrol's meant to be out here and they aren't our guys dressed in their uniforms." There was a hint of satisfaction to Durandara's voice. "Valent's taking this whole infiltrator issue very seriously."

"Good to know Link's so loved."

"Or that the Valentine military is seriously considering the possibility that there are eight or more infiltrators operating behind their lines," Durandara laughed. "That'd be great."

The sound of rotors began to fade away again. Link risked a peek upwards over the blades of grass this time, watching as the gunship began to circle away once more. Vincent, however, remained silent, probably waiting for the helicopter to gain a bit more distance…or waiting for the infantry formation up ahead to the east to look away first. Link considered himself lucky that the gunship had not yet noticed that there were suddenly two missing men from the eight-man formation…but, then again, it wasn't easy trying to keep _too_ keen an eye on an infantry outfit down below.

"Ready," came Vincent's voice, and Link's muscles immediately tensed for what almost resembled a crouching start for a sprint, preparing to dash across the road before him to the fields on the other side as quickly and low as possible. Several more long seconds would pass before the sniper hidden in the hills finally gave the command: "And _go_."

He almost tripped doing so, but Link somehow clumsily managed to launch himself from lying flat in the grass to a full sprint in a near-instant, slipping a bit on dirt as a gloved hand barely managed to reach out and stabilize the rest of his body, eventually fully catching balance as booted soles shifted from dirt and dust to the asphalt of the freeway, and he swiftly crossed the lonely road in four heartbeats. As soon as the grass on the other side was instantly within reach, he quickly flopped back down into the grass, careful not to slide and rustle more leaves and grass than he needed.

"Stay still," cautioned Vincent practically the moment Link hit the ground, his words followed by a long moment of silence as the sniper quietly surveyed enemy activity and movements once more before confirming, "You're good. Next target, twenty meters southeast. He's pretty close to another tango, so keep it quiet, take them both out quickly, or wait until they separate."

"Gunship is leaving," Durandara suddenly added, and it was only then that Link noticed that the sounds of the rotor was fading away slowly at first, then quickly as the helicopter picked up speed from its hovering holding pattern.

"Confirming, gunship exiting AO."

The immediate threat of being gunned down by a gunship with rapid explosive high-caliber rounds was gone, but that also meant Link was going to have to stick with much stealthier kills now, which he decided was going to be, for the time being, silenced and fast headshots. The infiltrator took a deep breath, mentally braced himself for the need to instantly aim and fire. The gunship could likely use its targeting systems to continue to watch this area of operations from kilometers away, but it was unlikely; that the helicopter was leaving probably indicated the crew was satisfied that command had confirmed a Valentine patrol was supposed to be here, and there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Are you in position?" Vincent double-checked.

"Right behind them," answered Durandara for Link.

"Alright, wait one."

Much more careful with his movements with the gunship gone, Link kept speed with the two Valentine soldiers, carefully maintaining a respectable distance that would keep him undiscovered while maintaining an optimum distance for swift, accurate handgun kills.

"Wait." Vincent's voice was thick was concentration, trying to watch all six soldiers out on the field. "Wait…"

Link focused more on waiting for Vincent's command than keeping track of the time, but as anxiety began to fully settle in with the passing of a strangely unspeakably long amount of time, the Hylian infiltrator began to feel as if entire _minutes_ were passing by to set Link up for the perfect takedown conditions…which was not, by any imaginable measure, an easy task when one had to watch every member of the patrol – not to mention the equipment and occupants of the helicopter gunship that had been in the area earlier – at the same time through a scope.

"_Go_."

Link quickly rose to one knee, stabilized his arms as he brought his gunsword up in handgun mode. The grass was too tall for Link to fire from a prone position, and this distance offered little trouble for the aim of a trained JI field operative anyways. Link targeted the soldier on the left first, who was trailing behind just slightly, and squeezed off two rounds to ensure lethality. Even as two bullets drilled two different holes into the infantryman's head, Link had swiveled his aim just slightly towards the man on the right, squeezed off another two rounds before his first victim's body had hit the ground. In almost the same instant in which he confirmed both kills, the Hylian agent quickly leaned forward and dropped back prone into the tall grass, disappearing into the green once more.

"Clean, very clean," purred Vincent with great satisfaction. "The right guy's knee is sticking up a bit, pull it back down." It was hard to spot even up-close out of the tall grass, but it was still a risk, so Link crawled ahead, straightened the enemy's knee so it disappeared completely into the grass. "Next target: Twenty-five meters east."

Four down, four to go. Crawling in the direction Vincent specified, using the easterly sun as his compass, Link hoped the remaining enemy infantrymen were spaced far enough for him to take down individually one at a time. That said, the discrepancy in numbers between the two opposing forces had decreased enough for Link and Vincent to have a decent chance at victory if they managed to take the enemy by surprise…but Link really didn't want to take the chance with battle-trained enemy soldiers. Slow, steady, quiet, and careful won battles.

"Wait, wait," Vincent suddenly cut in urgently, causing Link to freeze where he was instantly. "Shit. One of the guys is looking back." In other words, the remaining four soldiers of the patrol had noticed that the other half of the patrol that was supposed to be tailing them was suddenly nowhere to be seen. The enemy began shouting in Valentine, beginning to realize that something was wrong despite them not having spotted or heard any sign of such earlier. "I'm going loud, taking out two guys north of the road, attracting their attention to me. You take care of the tango south of the road and the remaining tango north of the road if I haven't dropped him. On three. One, two…"

Link rose to a knee, quickly took aim at the soldier twenty-five meters in front of him, center-mass.

"…_Three_."

Simultaneously, the crisp report of a scoped assault rifle firing on semi-automatic mode rang out in tandem with Link pulling the trigger on his gunsword. The timing was essential; just as Link's and Vincent's rounds tore through and incapacitated their respective targets, the two remaining combat-capable Valentine soldiers responded immediately to Vincent's gunshot by dropping to a knee, their visages threatening to blend into the fields of tall grass, and quickly swiveled their assault rifles in the rough direction of where they had heard the origin of the sniper's gunshot. They were that much harder to find and target now…but Vincent still managed to locate another soldier and squeezed off another shot, and Link caught a flash of blood against the horizon where the bullet made contact with flesh.

Realizing that she was somehow the only soldier left on what had been – until moments ago, by her reckoning – an eight-man patrol, the last Valentine infantrywoman dropped down prone into the grass, disappearing completely into the landscape. Noting that the advantage of surprise had been lost and that both sides were now aware of each others' existence, Link dropped down into the grass as well, not wanting to be ambushed from the thicket in the same way he had been picking off the members of the enemy patrol.

"I don't have a visual on her," growled Vincent over the earpiece. "Stay down." A pause; the sniper was presumably trying to reestablish visual contact, but, after failing, added, "Her last location was about thirty meters east-northeast of you, but she could be mobile. Play it safe and take your time; she doesn't have a radio."

On the bright side, the Hylians now, almost amusingly, had the advantage of numbers. And there was no real need to worry about reinforcements; sporadic gunshots could be heard as ambient noise throughout the continent, so – given the distance between the area of operations and Welfare – it was unlikely any enemy forces were going to send anyone over to check it out even if they heard Vincent's two gunshots. That the last infantrywoman did not have a radio to call for allies cemented that reasonable assumption.

Inching slowly forward towards the suggested location, Link was sure to maintain a slight angle, ensure that, by the time he enclosed on the target location, he would be approaching from what – to the last infantrywoman – would be a flanking vector. But he took it painfully slow, careful not to cause too much sound or rustle too much grass, being careful of not being overconfident just because he had sniper cover and the enemy did not. The Hylians couldn't take it_ too_ slow either; they had to finish off the last member of the patrol to start setting up for the convoy ambush.

"Link, target is mobile." Even over the earpiece, Link could hear Vincent shifting his weight with his sniper to get into a better position. "She's still thirty meters from your location to your northwest and moving west-northwest."

Increasing the speed of his crawl, the JI agent tried to catch up, knowing that if the enemy infantrywoman was trying to retreat and actually managed to get away, trying to find her later – especially if she was still in a position to interfere with the ambush, call for help prematurely, or just otherwise be an obstacle – would be immensely difficult. This had to be dealt with now.

Minutes passed at Link – and, assumedly, his target – remained mobile. It would've been easier if the soldier wasn't trying to retreat, only trying to sneak up on her own enemies. It would cause her to remain within the area of operations, cause her to look up from time-to-time to figure out where she and everyone else were, become barely visible from just time-to-time in a cat-and-mouse game. But with a Hylian sniper somewhere on a knoll, that was impossible; the Valentine infantrywoman knew she had no chances of success, and had to fall back, crawling all the way through the grass if need be.

But Link must've either been too loud or gotten close enough, because, suddenly, assault rifle fire broke out from in front – Link didn't dare look up, but he made a guess at less than ten meters away – and he put himself flat on the floor as bullets whizzed above his head, blades of grass snapping to and fro, shredded apart by rapidly-spinning rounds of metal. It stopped only when a rapid rustling of the grass came after, suggesting that she had broke into a run to gain distance, which stopped only after a few seconds. Vincent's voice on the earpiece explained why: "I don't think I hit her. Yeah, I think that was a miss. She's still in the grass ahead of you, Link."

Making a rough circling approach again to ensure that he was closing on a different direction, Link caught a lucky break when the Valentine patrolwoman raised her head just slightly up a bit, trying to find the location of either the sniper or her pursuer. She had carefully angled herself so that she'd be virtually invisible in the grass to Vincent from her direction, but the same was not so for Link, who swiftly aligned the sights of his gunsword with the infantrywoman. After ensuring that she hadn't moved from her spot as soon as the weapon was lined up with its target, he pulled the trigger twice, and the enemy dropped right back into the grass with a bit of a faraway and muffled rustle and a thud.

Link had not caught a good sign as to whether the soldier had dropped because she was hit or just ducking back into hiding, and Durandara didn't provide confirmation on that either way, so, to be safe, he fired his gunsword twice more into the spot he believed the woman had disappeared into, ducked back down, and swiftly crawled to a different position to prevent the enemy from getting a hold on his position. Only after he felt confident that he had built up enough of an angle from his last known location did Link finally venture forward – still crawling slowly – to where he had last seen the enemy combatant. When Link finally came within six or seven meters in, however, he finally heard sounds of gurgled gagging, prompting him to swiftly but cautiously move over at a crouch, his gunsword aimed at the source of the choking sounds, and finally stopping beside the prone, twitching form of the bleeding Valentine infantrywoman. It was not difficult to discern what was wrong; one of Link's shots had connected with the woman's throat, which, while not instantly lethal, was still a painful way to die.

For a moment, their gazes met: From behind sunglasses, Link's eyes stared into the infantrywoman's, who looked dazed, hazy, choking on her own blood as she stared helplessly up at the Hylian infiltrator.

Link aligned the barrel of his weapon with the soldier's head and pulled the trigger. The gurgling stopped.

"She's down," announced Durandara.

"Confirmed," Vincent replied, and Link watched as Vincent rose from his hidden sniping position almost two hundred meters away. "We're short on time; I'm coming to you. Get the mines set up on the northern end of the road; I got the south."

By the time Vincent sprinted over from his sniping position, Link already had just over a third of his mines set up, positioned just beside the road to the north, partially obscured by the tall grass but still close enough to the road to ensure maximum lethality for anyone driving through. The proximity sensors were disengaged in favor of the mines being remotely triggered, allowing Vincent to safely approach Link to provide a tossing return of the latter's sniper rifle, who caught it deftly out of the air and slung it back around his shoulder. Link had wanted to use the plastic explosives for the ambush; it could be triggered remotely, and packed so much of a harder punch that he suspected just enough of them could utterly destroy the convoy instantly. But instant destruction was clearly not what Vincent wanted. "I need just a slightly prolonged firefight to get the attention of regional enemy forces, just enough for me to draw them south," he had explained. "Otherwise I wouldn't have gone to all this trouble."

Another seven minutes, and the mines were safely set up on both sides of the road, Link retreated back to the tall grass and laid flat on his stomach, maintaining just enough of a distance between himself and the mines on either side, hiding just north of the freeway, and Vincent fell back to a closer sniping position, utilizing a scoped assault rifle instead of a more precision-reliant sniper rifle. Leaving overwatch to the sniper, Link took the opportunity to lie down in the grass, rest both his body and mind for a moment; if the last attempt to infiltrate enemy territory and destroy a superweapon had been any indicator, this mission was going to wreak havoc on his nerves, and he needed every bit of shut-eye he could get.

It was eight minutes later that Vincent's voice finally crackled over the earpiece. "I have eyes on the convoy. Four trucks with two humvee escorts, front and back, coming over the far hill. ETA, ninety seconds. I'll focus fire on the first humvee; make sure you get the rear."

Not bothering to try to get a better look at a convoy that was out of his line of sight anyways, Link merely clicked his earpiece twice to indicate that he had copied, and otherwise remained where he was. There was no benefit to getting all worked up now. His grip tightened on the remote detonator rigged to both arrays of anti-personnel mines, connected together and to the detonator by wire, giving precise control and timing to JI agent on the ground.

"Thirty seconds," Vincent spoke, and it was finally then that Link finally tensed his body, readying himself for action. The roar of the convoy could be heard, an orchestra of six vehicle engines and tires running across asphalt faintly beginning to overpower the ambient, distant sounds of war and carnage. Remaining hidden in the grass, Link could barely make out the tops of the first vehicles to appear within the line of sight, a humvee, followed by a truck, another truck…

…And then promptly decided that, if he could see the trucks at this point, he was probably raising his head too high, making him a risk to either the humvee machine gunners who could spot him, or the landmines that could effectively dislodge his head via shrapnel. He swiftly pressed himself even flatter against the ground.

"Three," Vincent was counting down just before the first humvee began to pass Link's position relative to the road, "two, one, _now_."

Vincent was, in Link's opinion, just a little bit early on that call from where he was taking overwatch just shy of two hundred meters away, so the agent on the ground waited for just half a second before pressing himself flat on the ground, covering his head with his arms, and clicking the trigger that sent the signal for detonation via wire to the network of directional anti-personnel mines set up on both sides of the road. A split-second later, the convoy momentarily disappeared into a cloud of dust.

The AP mines were meant to take out clustered groups of infantrymen, but it still contained enough explosives and shrapnel to penetrate lightly armored vehicles such as humvees and trucks. When detonated simultaneously, the mines struck with ferocious force, the entire ambush akin to two aligned arrays of oversized shotguns suddenly opening fire on both sides of the road at point-blank range. The explosions softened up the convoy's armor and disorientated the soldiers within the vehicles; the steel balls sent flying that came immediately after ripped through steel and flesh, and many initiated a lethal ricocheted within the confines of the vehicles, swiftly turning its occupants into very messy corpses. Link heard at least two additional explosions; the mines must've struck at munitions or fuel being carried in one of the trucks, turned it into a show of fireworks. Indeed, as he peered over the blades of grass now that the claymores had detonated and he was no longer in danger of being blasted away by his own explosives, two separate clouds of fire and smoke were rising into the air in the form of mushrooms.

The screams and shouts of the survivors attempting to pile out of their damaged vehicles were _almost_ drowned out by the sound of exploding ammunitions; in the fire, heat, and explosions, bullets and explosives were going off in one of the trucks that was likely carrying weapons and ammunitions, setting off a deadly chain reaction as rounds exploded and flew everywhere. The driver and passenger of the truck right behind attempted to flee their vehicle, only to be instantly gunned down by exploding munitions that riddled their bodies with a shower of stray bullets. Many of the soldiers who could not get out of the supply trucks fast enough did so while on fire from exploding munitions even as their comrades futilely attempted to put out the flames.

"Yeah," Durandara quipped wittedly as she watched rolling balls of flame rise as plumes into the air. "Valentine forces are _definitely_ going to notice _that_."

With the immediate threat of landmine explosions past, Link rose from where he hid, moved closer to the convoy, his gunsword up and ready. The green of his fatigues would hopefully provide him a few extra seconds that could cause the enemy – disorientated by the explosions – to hesitate in fear of friendly fire, an advantage Link fully exploited when a driver and two soldiers tumbled out from the door and rear of a surviving truck that was slowly catching flame; the Hylian agent swiftly injected bullets into each of the survivors' heads before they could discover the approaching green-clad soldier wasn't actually one of theirs.

Rapid but controlled bursts of automatic fire could be heard in the distance, followed by screams and the sounds of whizzing bullets coming too close and ricocheting rounds causing havoc. Undoubtedly, Vincent was providing suppressing fire on the convoy with a scoped assault rifle from the south. As the most obvious assailant of the convoy, it was likely that any Valentine survivors would attempt to seek cover behind their vehicles from Vincent, making them completely unprepared for an ambush by Link from the other side. Three soldiers slid through the gap between two trucks for cover in preparation to return fire at a distant sniper, and swiftly received two silenced gunshots each from Link before he reloaded.

"Front humvee is down," came Vincent's voice over the earpiece just as Link crossed the gap between the second and third trucks, his voice just a bit tense. "Rear humvee still isn't disabled, Link."

Which meant that, at the very back of the convoy, there were soldiers manning a high-caliber machine gun mounted on a fast-moving military vehicle.

"Going to draw their fire on your go," the older JI agent finished. "Make it quick; I don't like taking my chances with a machine gun at this range."

"Copy," replied Durandara while Link masked his mouth with an arm while passing by the third truck. It was one of the two trucks that had burst into flames when the explosions set off either fuel or munitions, and the truck was reduced to a charred, burning wreck. The fires had burned through the munitions, and neither the rounds or explosives were going off anymore, but flames and smoke still spilled into the air, irritating Link's eyes and ears as he made his way swiftly across and past the third truck, and crossing to the fourth and last. The fourth truck was only lightly damaged – despite a bit of smoke coming out of the engine hood, neither the vehicle or its contents looked like it was in danger of detonating anytime soon, although the front of the truck and its occupants had been mercilessly riddled with bullet holes from the exploding munitions of the truck in front of it – but as Link made his way to the very back of that vehicle and pressed himself against the side, he noted to himself he really didn't want to stay too close to a waiting bomb for too long, not when most of the convoy was already starting to burn.

Link wondered how Vincent managed to take care of the front humvee so quickly while experiencing trouble performing long-range kills against another humvee only several meters to the rear at the very back of a relatively short convoy, but a quick look around the corner of the last truck revealed the trouble. The lightly-armored humvee at the back had caught the least amount of damage from the AP mines out of all the convoy's vehicles, and – aside from a few cracks in the window – was still entirely serviceable, with its armor and weapons intact. Even its headlights were in good condition.

"We're in position," said Durandara over the earpiece. "Start the fire."

"Copy." And, with that, bursts of assault fire were hurled from a grassy knoll to the rear humvee, rounds providing suppressing fire. Bullets pinged around and off the humvee, and, expectedly, the gunner in the humvee swiveled the vehicle's gun around, having figured out Vincent's rough location from either sound or muzzle flash, and began firing in his rough direction.

Link waited and allowed roughly two seconds for the enemy to sustain that fire, to focus on Vincent, before giving Durandara a nod, launching into a surprise attack as Durandara called out to the Vincent, "Hold fire, we're coming out!"

"Holding fire."

Appearing from around the corner, Link took aim, fired his first round at the soldier manning the machine gun on top of the humvee. It struck the center of mass, but the impact was absorbed by the man's bulletproof vest, and although the impact was strong enough to knock him back against the rim of the roof opening and draw a sharp cry of pain, it didn't penetrate the body armor. The second shot, however, skirted the soldier's body armor and went straight through his shoulder, causing him to twitch in pain and ruining any chance that he could've had in turning the machine gun on Link, who progressively made his way closer to the humvee. The third shot drilled right through the machine gunner's head, which snapped violently back on impact, and he slid against the porthole on the roof of his humvee before slumping and dropping back down into the vehicle.

By virtue of his gunshots having been silenced, the occupants of the humvee did not even quite notice Link's approach and assault until the machine gunner had fell bloodily back into the vehicle; even then, it took them a moment to recognize that the special forces first lieutenant that had appeared out of nowhere was, in fact, _the _special forces first lieutenant that they had been warned about, the saboteur. But assault rifles were difficult to bring up to bear in an enclosed, confined space in a humvee, and by the time Link had fired off two shots at the vehicle's windshields, determining that the class was indeed bulletproof, the Hylian agent had already managed to stick a small patch of plastic explosives he still had with him against the lightly armored vehicle, swiftly running away and diving for cover and distance before Valentine forces could get good shots at him.

Three seconds and nearly fifteen meters later, Link keyed the remote detonation of the small wad of plastic explosives on the humvee. The tiny amount was more than enough; the explosives transformed into a large cloud of dust and smoke – almost enveloping Link, who was almost tossed into the air as he reflected that the absurdly powerful explosives could sometimes be notoriously difficult to adequately ascertain when handled in such small amounts – in a blink of an eye that suddenly disassembled large pieces of the vehicle, tossing apart scrap metal into the air and instantly killing everyone inside. Hitting the ground and hiding into the grass, the JI agent waited momentarily for bits and pieces of scrap metal to burn through the air and land around him before he was certain it was safe to get up.

There were no more gunshots echoing from Vincent's hill, and as Link surveyed the north side of the line of now-wrecked vehicles, he found himself looking only at corpses and smoldering wrecks. "Convoy down," Durandara confirmed to both JI operatives. "All targets KIA."

"Alright, I'll wrap things up," Vincent responded…just as the whistle of artillery shells was suddenly heard, and Link immediately hugged the ground. But the rounds exploded instead around the area where Vincent had set up a vantage point and sniped, sending a great amount of dust and dirt into the air when the shells finally slammed into the ground. One of the soldiers in the Valentine convoy must've narrowed down Vincent's rough location and called for artillery support just before the entire convoy was killed. Any worry he had about Vincent having been caught by the artillery, however, was dispelled when the voice in Link's earpiece continued after a short pause, "Go on ahead; I'll lure them south and out of your way. See you on the other side."

"Copy," Durandara replied as Link got back on his feet and recalled Epona, the black motorcycle already appearing from its hiding spot in the forest a kilometer and a half away and moving towards the Hylian infiltrator's position. "Good luck, agent." It was time to get a move on.

* * *

"Are you _sure_ about this intel, major?"

Major Alexandria refrained from making a face that would've reflected a certain amount of displeasure to being doubted; she wasn't so unprofessional to make such an urgent call to the National Defense Committee had she not been positive. "I'd be much more worried if the Hylians have multiple infiltrators masquerading as special forces and communicating in fluent Valentine, admiral," Alexandria replied dispassionately, sitting up straighter in the seat of her military transport aircraft – one whose crew she had just commandeered and ordered for the plane to turn north towards the northern Hylian shoreline – as the grip on her military phone tightened. The temperamental Fleet Admiral Gauthier was one of leaders on the National Defense Committee that Alexandria would've rather _not_ dealt with, not with his notorious and infamous temper that often made conversations more charged and trying than it should be. Nevertheless, he was the only member of the National Defense Committee that could be reached immediately, he _was _a superior officer that deserved respect, and there was no excuse _not_ to talk to Fleet Admiral Gauthier when the matter at hand concerned the navy more than any other branch of the military. "Assuming that's not the case and that there's only one infiltrator, Jormungand is the most obvious target."

"Sounds like he was found incredibly quickly," Gauthier mumbled, his displeasure audible even over the scratchy receiver and the roar of the plane's engines. "Could be a decoy, a Hylian trick to divert attention elsewhere."

For a moment, the intelligence major wondered as if Gauthier was in denial, if there was any reason he wanted to _not_ believe that Jormungand was being targeted. Then, remembering that the entire military chain of command was in a near-state of panic following the destruction of Anansi – which translated into more work and sleepless nights for many aging men and women of the upper military hierarchy, including the members of the National Defense Committee – Alexandria decided to squelch that thought and not think further upon it. Everybody was just in a mood to second-guessing things now that they had lost the overwhelming advantage. "Possible, sir, but unlikely. Hylian military intelligence and communications has been reduced to a near-non-functioning state, sir. Never mind their ability to coordinate strategic decisions to make use of a decoy; I'd question whether or not they even know of the new protocols we've applied to special forces. The 1st SIU was formed only five nights ago, and new protocols only went through two nights ago." There was just no way Hylian intelligence could work that fast to Alexandria's new protocols for special forces even if they somehow miraculously came across such information.

Sighing, the fleet admiral seemed to have conceded to Alexandria's reasoning, but seemed no happier about it; the explosive exhale from an aging throat indicated just how fatigued and tired and frustrated he was. "What do you want me to do then, major?" he growled.

"Increase naval security. Ensure that there's no way for the Hylians to sneak any saboteur into areas Jormungand may be in."

There was a slight pause before Gauthier spoke once more. "Major," he said, and just the way his customary growl was suddenly calm and quiet and devoid of emphasis indicated to Alexandria that the fleet admiral suddenly felt remarkably pissed, "since Anansi was destroyed, do you think the navy has not taken precautions? All refit and refuel operations have been done by supply submarines that have been vetted and then filled with naval security when docking at base before raising anchor. Jormungand itself has not docked or come within three kilometers to the shoreline, nor has its escort. If you think you have any better ideas, why don't you goddamn tell me?"

Like most officers who had gotten as far up her career as she had, Alexandria knew when she was toeing the line by asking bold questions, and when she was toeing the line by being impudent. "Pardon me, admiral," she quickly rectified. "I merely wished to convoy that I am doing what I can to prevent the destruction of Jormungand."

The grunt Gauthier provided seemed to hint at casual forgiveness, but the ire in his voice hadn't left, although that was arguably a perpetual thing. "If you want to help," he spat, "stop the infiltrator from getting hold of naval assets. Stop the guy on land. Bastard shouldn't even be allowed to get this close to our lines."

"I will submit the necessary reports and requests to General Christian, High Command, and the Valentine Army," the intelligence major added dutifully, then, after a moment of assessing the risks and benefits, added as almost a bit of a gamble, "And I will head north myself to take preventive measures."

The older man on the other side of the line sounded genuinely surprised. "You're going _personally_?"

"Yes, sir."

There was a long pause after that before Alexandria heard a distinctive click on the other side of the line. Gauthier had not hung up on her; he was unclogging the call, ensuring that it wouldn't be kept for record-keeping purposes and the following conversation would remain off-the-record. "You're a damned intelligence officer now, not special forces," the fleet admiral finally groused when he came back on the line, but his voice had taken a slightly softer edge. "You're supposed to investigate and get others to carry out preventive measures for you, not get involved yourself."

"With respect, I was commissioned to prevent the destruction of both Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl, sir," corrected the intelligence major. "Through any means necessary, if I must. I was given operational discretion."

"Is this some kind of glory hunt, Alexandria?" demanded Gauthier. "Because of your family?"

It was Alexandria's turn to feel indignant, and although she had much better control of her emotions than the superior officer, a bit of that still managed to seep into her otherwise cool, dispassionate voice. "No, sir. This is my _duty_. I will safeguard the keystones of this campaign and the integrity of this nation, sir."

Again, the statement was followed by a measure of quiet, but Alexandria did not hear any sign of Gauthier re-logging the call. After many long seconds, the fleet admiral merely sighed – Alexandria could imagine the man shaking his head in frustration – before finally finishing in a weary voice, "Be careful about personally involved. The military is not shy about pinning blame on someone."

"I am not certain of what you're trying to say, sir." Actually, the intelligence major _did_ have an idea, but being wrong could mean the difference between looking acute and being impudent.

"If, and I'm saying _if_," Gauthier put heavy emphasis on that one word, "Jormungand was destroyed and you were deemed to have been close enough to prevent it, the National Defense Committee is not going to protect you; they're going to want your head on a silver platter. I'm talking being tried, court-martialed."

Alexandria remained resolute. "If we lose Jormungand and the war, I will be tried by an enemy military tribunal."

But that only invited a terse, bitter laugh from Fleet Admiral Gauthier. "I'd rather be tried by an enemy who I've given good reason to hate me," he declared, "than be tried by my own people so someone can cover their own goddamn ass."

* * *

**Exoria File #022  
Alexandria (Abridged Career Service Vitae)**

"Name: Alexandria  
Rank: Major (OF-3)  
Age: 27 (born September 11, 1479)  
Birthplace: Rynwall, Valent  
Service Number: MI4267884  
Date of Enlistment: September 15, 1496

Background: Eldest child of Grand Duke Clyde and Grand Duchess Celeste of Rynwall; sister Phoenicia member of 7th Battalion Royal Guard. Family significantly noted for military tradition; Clyde former colonel and primary instructor of HIGHLAND sniper program, Celeste former special forces major. Received basic combat training during secondary schooling with her year in 1495 and 1496.

Career: Enrolled in Velvet Central Military Academy in 1496, graduating in 1498; enrolled in Velvet Officer Candidates School immediately after and earned commission to second lieutenant in the same year. Assigned as company staff officer, received promotion to first lieutenant in 1499. Participated in Operation: VARSITY in 1500, awarded Distinguished Service Medal for valorous actions in combat. Subsequently scouted by and recruited into special forces in the same year, earning promotion to first lieutenant. Participated in highly classified military operations (see unabridged CSV for details); received promotion to captain in 1502. Rotated upon request to military intelligence in 1503. Designated official military intelligence liaison to special forces operations in 1504, and received promotion to major in 1505. Commissioned by National Defense Committee to form the 1st Special Investigative Unit in 1507.

Assessment: Exceptional military field officer, possessing firsthand experience in combat and unit leadership, high intelligence, and noteworthy bravery in the face of adversity. Highly respected by her superiors, peers, and subordinates for competence, conviction to duty, willingness to place self in clear and present danger, and adherence to the military traditions of the family despite noble peerage. Highly capable in field and office work in both combat and intelligence.

Recommendation: Pending; currently tasked to 1st Special Investigative Unit under the jurisdiction of the National Defense Committee.

Last updated January 30, 1507"

* * *

Author's Note: This author's note is going to fairly important, so here we go.

_Exoria_ is going on a hiatus. No, I haven't burned out. The problem right now is that the location I am currently residing in and a citizen of has a military draft policy, which means I am forcibly being conscripted into the armed services. I've been able to put this off for a while since the policy of this government is that the draft can be postponed for a certain amount of time for university education, but I've since graduated and bureaucracy has caught up. Given that I've had to given up many opportunities for work to satisfy the needs of a military that probably couldn't win any war it fights, I'm as angry about this as you'd otherwise imagine.

Here's what to expect: There is a not-insignificant chance that I will be unable to have access to any computers or internet for about three-to-four weeks starting from the end of August, which accounts for basic training. After basic training, however, there is a significant chance that I will be rotated to office work, and decent chance that I will have computer access on weekends at the very least. I may also have computer access on weekdays, but I honestly am reluctant to promise anything until I'm actually there. So there will be effectively zero progress on _Exoria_ while I'm at basic training, and the schedule by which I'm able to update following basic training is tentative.

This will most likely be my last update before basic training. This decision is made not because I cannot produce a chapter before the end of August, but because having a pre-finished but unpublished chapter gives me a chance to update as soon as I finish basic training with an author's note outlining what my schedule post-basic training is going to look like. And I'm sorry, but it's unlikely I'll be able to produce _two_ chapters from now until the end of August.

I apologize in advance to my loyal readers who are about to be in for what's probably going to be the longest wait for a chapter update in a pattern of increasingly long waits. I can only hope that the schedule after basic training is kind enough to offer me my own time, that I actually get the aforementioned office work, that my military office work provides me free internet access so long as I can the job done, and that I can bring my own laptop to the barracks or wherever they need to station me. Or some combination of the above. And, of course, I can only hope that your interest and enthusiasm for _Exoria_ remains when I _do_ return, and that my update can make up for the wait.

Per usual, time to respond to a few reviews.

Jokeruto: _Ah life is going to be interesting for old Link from this point forward. Why am I thinking of Arsenal Gear from MGS everytime I think of Jormugand, without the tribute to Big Boss and Solid Snake on its hull of course. I really do have to wonder what Valent motives for launching this war are, sounds like they're moving people into concentration camps without the gas chambers and those horrible cattle trains. So ultranationalists are in charge of Valent, though they don't sound like the Nazi party yet. Though Valent sounds rather liberal to say compared to the US, letting women into combat arms jobs, the brass in the US military would have a heart attack if that ever happened here. He'll they only grudgingly let go of DADT. Valent definitely sounds like the most interesting of the nations so far, can't wait to learn more about them._

Arsenal Gear is probably largely impractical as a combat vehicle – as Solidus Snake explained to Raiden and Fortune during the penultimate battle of _Metal Gear Solid 2_ – so Jormungand, being a fleet-destroying attack submarine, will probably be much smaller and not look like Arsenal Gear in many ways. Although I will do my best not to spoil, I will say that the war was waged for carefully-considered reasons, and that Valentine ultranationalists – unlike German Nazis or how Russian ultranationalists have traditionally been depicted – aren't on an ego-trip, but have very serious concerns about how their country is run. As Exoria File #019 showed (a diplomatic cable twenty years ago from a Hylian ambassador in Valent to the then-Minister of Foreign Affairs), Valent's ultranationalist party – led by the Secundus Party at the time – rose and later launched the Valentine revolution because the collapse of their bubble economy post-Second Continental War had driven the country into a financial and economic corner, and jobs were being lost, a recession was developing into a depression, and standards of living were dropping. Whatever happened to them later, the original ultranationalists – who are still very much still around and very much engaged in Valentine politics – were very much well-meaning patriots who felt it was their duty to save the country, and felt they could do so only through a coup.

Actually, at one point, Valent was lagging behind in terms of gender equality and values, a holdover from a strong sense of chivalry that had persisted through Valentine culture. I would assume that Valentine historians would argue, however, that it was not sexism as much as it was the chivalric belief that men should have the decency and honor to protect women in a gentlemanly manner, and women should support that decency and honor. A lot of gender barriers were eventually broken by – you guessed it – Duchess Sieglinde of Rynwall after she rose to fame and effectively became one of the three greatest Valentine national heroes of all time, but most developments towards gender equality in Valent have been achieved within the last century to half-century, overtaking Hyrule on such matters. Of course, Gerudo has never had any real problems with male chauvinism. A culture of chivalry – of gentlemanly behavior and courtesy – still exists very much amongst the cultured elite and respectable population of Valent, but this really isn't a problem in the military, where gender identities are disengaged.

JeffMe: _I like the way you wrote this chapter._

_Few writers have talent writing battle scenes._

_Maybe you could write a scene from the perspective of the special forces next time, as they chased Link?_

_Navi reminds me of Cortana from Halo. Will she also, sacrifice herself, like Cortana?_

_We also get to see a new side of Link - imagine Link admiring someone! But didn't Aizen say in Bleach that admiration is the farthest thing from understanding? I wonder if Vincent also contains a dark side. Hopefully not as evil as Aizen!_

_One thing I found a little unbelievable was the way Link just listened to Emi. Since he's so focused on his duty, shouldn't he have struggled more to get information on Zelda? Well, I guess on a personal level he understands that Zelda wouldn't want that._

_They are both strong people that understand each other quite well (although, perhaps not, as they had a total misunderstanding over the take a vacation thing!)_

_I wonder if Link ever thinks of Zelda as he destroys Weapons of Mass Destruction. Does Zelda think of Link as she commands the army?_

I do what I can with battle scenes; they appeal less to me than writing things about intrigue, but I manage somehow. I don't know if I'll get around to writing something from a special forces perspective; it's not part of the plan, but – then again – writing about Manee and Sira had not been part of the plan either, so you never know. And while I'm no expert on the _Halo_ series, I do believe that Cortana never quite sacrificed herself…unless you're talking about the ending of _Halo 2_, I think.

I'm not sure "admiration" is exactly the word I have in mind towards how Link feels about Vincent. They're colleagues in two different departments who recognize that both are well-trained and skilled. Link knows Vincent has the advantage of age and experience by about seven years, but he doesn't really consider himself "worse" than Vincent. It's really a case of mutual respect. And Link is largely going along with Emi for now because he sees no good alternative for taking Jormungand down. Besides, he's trusting Durandara to attempt to fill Zelda in when possible; he also trusts that MICO doesn't gain much by getting him killed right now, and that Emi will find a way to fill Zelda in when it's convenient for MICO. So, really, it's largely ECM and other radio interference that's preventing a lot of the communications from going through, or Zelda would've known what's going on by now. Finding a way to sabotage Jormungand, however, is more important.

And, yes, there's a relatively ambiguous bond of trust between Link and Zelda. At the moment, though, the princess believes Link is resting in Garuda City, and not being sent out to the battlefield again in pursuit of some Valentine superweapon, so worrying about him isn't exactly priority number one at the moment.

Ngandu the Croc: _There's nothing I like more than seeing a hero beat the odds, even with a little help. The action was an exhilarating read from start to finish._

_You truly demonstrated in this chapter just how dangerous special forces really are. Not with combat capability, that was Alexandria's little show a couple of chapters back, but how they were able to so perfectly keep each other in synch even in new, totally unknown territory. And even before that, when they were booking it through the forest and were beating down on Link like hellhounds. And that plan to keep Link pinned down? I was really wondering what the heck he or Durandara (who was awesome this chapter, by the way) were going to figure a way out of that situation. Then of course came the mines, and an excellent surprise appearance that you set up rather well with that entertaining aside (I wouldn't forget either if that happened to me). Really, it's the best way you could have gone to get Link out of there alive without taking away from the special forces. I've never been fond of diminishing enemies within a story just for the sake of giving the hero a victory. It cheapens the narrative._

_And I think I like this Vincent character of yours, and will be interested to see what else he brings to this story besides saving Link's bacon. Even if he is the kind of guy who has no problem kidnapping people in the dead of night to do unspeakable things to them later (and it shows, really). Still, it's good to know that Link wasn't totally alone out there this time around. And he had something very interesting to say about Valent's actions, something rather familiar, I should think..._

_And really, they're going to have to get in touch with Zelda somehow, because Link going after Jormungand is something the princess may not appreciate hearing about after the fact. Would get more difficult the closer they get to our leviathan, super weapon interference being what it is and all that._

_And yes, Alexandria's on the ball, as always. It's good to see her relationship with the special forces built upon just the tiniest bit, but yeah, good fun but not the major issue here. It will be interesting to see her reaction when she finally catches up with Anansi's destroyer. She's out for blood. Really though, since your making her do all the active duty stuff on the investigation team's front, I wonder what their third member is up to... it's almost like she's trying to get a cover so deep even the readers will forget she's around._

_Keep up the good work, man. Peace._

Writing Link's battle with special forces was really largely a mental exercise of me thinking: If there were three Link's here as a fireteam, what would they do? While certainly very skilled and very lethal, I'm also trying to portray Link as being out of his element; none of his job descriptions have prepared him for having to deal with trained soldiers or foreign military forces, as opposed to terrorists and enemy spies, and while he's improvising as much as he can, the fact still is that he's trying to work himself through an unfamiliar field – in both senses of the word – where the enemy, being soldiers, is trained for these particular engagements. This is why, save for more epic fight scenes such as the escape from Hyrule City and the battle against Anansi (both of which were really fighting retreats, with heavy emphasis on the "retreat" part), Link has largely either fought enemies using the element of surprise or where the disadvantage in numbers is minimal…or, in some cases, where he chooses not to fight at all.

The inclusion of Vincent and Lloyd homage to an old _Megaman Zero_ fanfic of mine, _Megaman Phoenix_, which happens to be the first and only long fanfic I've ever actually completed, both being very important characters to the plot. I would note that Vincent had been sarcastic about "enhanced interrogation techniques", and that he's well-aware that torture does not work in many cases, just as it is in real life. He is, however, trained in it regardless because there are times where an agent has to resist torture, and there are times where torture actually helps achieve different results, and he's become both very proficient and very detached about the whole thing. Oh, and while I'm rather proud to have completed _Megaman Phoenix_, I would still advise against reading it, because it was something I written many, many years ago when I first started doing fanfics, and the quality is…discrepant, to say. So it's kind of embarrassing, I guess. I've kept it only largely because it's the first fic I've finished, and I can't bring myself to take that down.

Yes, Link and Durandara will continue to attempt to reach Zelda when possible, which is quite apparently not now. And Zelda will not be happy to hear that Emi has effectively manipulated Link into the field once more, especially without either Zelda's permission or knowledge, and most especially with Zelda believing that Link had done more than enough for the war effort and deserving to sit out of the rest. Alexandria's still on the ball, Steven's trying so hard to play a game of catch-up, and Juno…oh, I assure you she'll be showing up very soon.

As always, thank you for your review.

PNGpyro: _Haha, I think I know what Quetzalcoatl is. I'd been wondering ever since you talked about how the Valentines had exceptional data on troop movements and such. But the fact that you specifically mentioned that this continent did not have a space program, yet Alexandria gets her call on a SATELLITE phone...well, it's strong enough evidence for me, especially since Valent has the most advanced air force. But you're the author, so I might yet be wrong. I'll wait and see._

_Good chapter, BTW; and I don't find Durandara annoying, although I would be happy for a bit more character depth; she seems to be mainly about making snappy remarks right now. She's believable for only being a week or so(?) old. I did wonder why she was using spectroimagery instead of echolocation in the underground bunker, especially since she's shown her prowess with the latter before._

Actually, this is where I have to apologize. Putting a "satellite phone" in the story was pure carelessness on my part, and I'm properly chastised that I've made this kind of mistake. Thank you for pointing this out to me; the proper edits are being carried out, which – thankfully – spans only two chapters. Unfortunately, I can say right off the bat that Quetzalcoatl does not have theater-wide CIC capabilities, and it is actually not a low-atmosphere satellite. My sincerely apologies, and thank you for alerting me to this.

Echolocation is more difficult to process than spectroimagery. Aside from the fact that sound travels slower, previous attempts at echolocation provided a rough layout of the area as opposed to detailed positions of where objects were, something that was important in this instance due to the need for both cover and concealment in a fast-paced firefight. In this case, Durandara felt that alacrity and detail was more important than a full-scan of nearby environments. Not to mention ambient sounds were not great enough to fully utilize echolocation, and when things _did_ get loud, guns were being discharged, and that was probably great motivation to use spectroimagery instead. Remember, though: Durandara isn't perfect, she's the first attempt at a human-like AI ever, and she's certainly prone to mistakes.

The Pilot: _Boy, am I late on this review...sorry, I've been burned out the last few weeks, and am just now recovering._

_Well, the start of this chapter had quite an unexpected (but very welcome) surprise: Link and Jessica spending time together. But what REALLY surprised me, was Jessica offering her homeland to Link like that (which was really neat, btw.). In retrospect of the omake, Jessica's actions make sense though, as the women of Gerudo strike me as being rather straight-forward, and don't waste time once they decide who they have feelings for (though please correct me if I am mistaken on this). I do hope that if indeed Link will be romantically involved with someone, that it will at least be Jessica, if Zelda is not an option (again, please bear with me on this topic, as I don't remember if you ruled out a link/zelda pairing, or not)._

_Well, Hyrule's situation looks rather bleak, to put it mildly. I must commend you again, though, on Zelda's continued character development._

_Finally, it looks like things are going to get rather ugly for Link, to which I say "Bring it on!". Time for some more gut-twisting action!_

You're not entirely incorrect about Gerudo perceptions of romance, but I don't like to think any set of adjectives can universally describe an entire people in any accurate form. One of the things I want to move fiction – not to mention real life perceptions of – away from are simplistic, general impressions of people to whom we consider to be "foreign". It is true that Gerudo is based off a variety of real-world regions and cultures, including the Japan, India, Pakistan, and the Middle East, but just because they're "foreign" doesn't mean they can thus be summed up in a few sentences in an attempt to describe their culture and social dynamic. Seeing that your profile indicates you're from the U.S., trying to ask you about the dynamics of American culture will likely generate a fairly long-winded answer that basically amounts to "it's very complicated", because an entire culture is more than an accumulation of adjectives and concepts, but an entire way of life that is dependent on a variety of different factors. There's also the fact that Gerudo is not a small nation, and is a union of many different tribes; remember that the official designation of the country is the Gerudo Union. Try finding a lot of similar points between the cultures of the state of Washington and the state of South Carolina, for example. There are going to be many, many different standards, which is one of the reasons why Southern Gerudo is fighting for its independence, a goal born out of a failed movement to get the central government in Garuda to limit its central powers and give more autonomy to individual provinces.

Trying to cut down an explanation that can quickly spiral out of control, yes, Jessica has feelings for Link – even if I'm not entirely specifying what those feelings are – and while Gerudo women can be seen as straightforward, it doesn't mean that Jessica isn't modest. There's a complex amalgamation of feelings both personal and professional right now. We're just going to see where that takes us. And – perhaps more importantly to you – no, I have not ruled out the possibility of a Link x Zelda ship. I have also not ruled out the possibility that there will be other contenders for Link's affections.

I'm horrible, I know.

Silvermoon383: _I must say, I totally LOVE Exoria! I stumbled across it while browsing the Net for modern Link information (more about why later), and after the Prologue I was hooked. Even with the major changes in setting (modern is far different from medieval after all) you've managed to keep the main characterizations for Link and Zelda (even managing to keep Link a mute (mostly), something I've never seen in any of the other Zelda stories I've read), and that's making me wonder just when Generalissimo Ganondorf's going to make his move (he always does)._

_Your use of imagery is exquisite! When I read I can picture the story in my head like it was a movie, and when Link first put on the green clothes I felt a shiver down my spine, recognizing it as a defining moment of Exoria, and one I had been waiting for. When he was escaping from Hyrule City with Zelda my heart was pounding, and when he was battling Anansi I was right next to him, wondering if we were going to get out of there alive. I can't wait to see how he takes down Jormungand, and I know it'll be just as epic! I just hope I don't drown in the process._

_Keep up the amazing work!_

_And now the promised explanation:_

_I was attending a local anime con and on the first day I happened to be wearing all green (totally by chance), and I had on my felt Link hat like I always do for the con. A few people stopped me and remarked that I looked a little bit like a modern Link (especially if you squinted a bit). Intrigued by the notion (and having a slight flash of memory about a rumored modern remake for a future LoZ game) I hit the Net and the results let to here._

_Why do I mention all this? Because you've inspired me to do a full on modern Link costume, based on Exoria's Link! While I can't claim I'm your Link (there're enough differences between what I've gotten together and your picture for Link, and I have no clue whatsoever how to make a gunsword), I will definitely be telling everyone who asks just where I got the idea!_

_Hopefully I'll get it finished off real soon (waiting on 1 more piece), and when it's finished I'll have to find a way to get some pictures for you. ^^_

_See ya in chapter 23!_

Link donning his traditional green garb – albeit a modern variant for this story – was meant to be a symbolic moment for _Exoria_, as if I was trying to say "yes, this _is_ a _Zelda _fic, and this is why", so I'm quite glad that it elicited such a strong reaction from you. I'm quite delighted to hear that you are enjoying _Exoria_ immensely, and I will strive to meet your expectations. I am also very amused – in a good way, I promise you, as in it's a delightful surprise – to hear how you managed to find _Exoria_ – most certainly the most unique story of how someone has found this fic to date – and that this has inspired you to create a modern Link costume. I will be more than happy to see your photographs (I may actually have to demand them, such is my curiosity); my FFNet PM inbox is always open. I would've recommended that you post other means of contact information in your next review if you cannot be bothered to get a FFNet account for PM, but I'm not sure letting everyone know your other contact information – email or messenger – is a good idea.

Thank you very much for your review and enthusiasm, and I hope to see more reviews – and those photos – soon.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Located far enough inland to be considered the rear territories of Valentine's current battlefront, the Hylian city of Astric saw some of the heaviest fighting between Hyrule and Valent in the ongoing conflict. It was one of the first rallying points for Hylian military once local armed forces confirmed that their national communications were down and that they were on their own, and military units began to coordinate on a local level. The battle ended in a Valentine victory. It was an obvious outcome: The Hylians had ridiculously limited air support, communications even amongst smaller units were not instantaneous, the defenders had been outnumbered, and they lacked the strategic assets that allowed their enemies to maneuver themselves around Astric to exploit weaknesses and wreak havoc.

But victory had not come easy. Valentine Major General Katherine, who had wanted to keep casualties to an absolute minimum and had not expected actual major coordinated resistance even on a local level, decided against sending infantry or armored brigades into Astric after confirming that civilians had long been evacuated from the city, and instead spent nearly seventy-two hours pounding the city with one of the most ferocious barrages of air, artillery, and missile strikes ever seen in modern military history. The warheads had set the city ablaze, and great fires burned through the small city of Astric for four days. It rained on the fifth day, and only smoke and embers remained.

The city itself had long been vacated of any Hylian military presence; some of the survivors of the brutal bombardment had surrendered to Valentine forces and were accordingly transported west as prisoners of war, but – miraculously – the remainder of the survivors broke the eastern cordon and successfully made a strategic retreat. There were few bodies either, military or civilian, for what the thermobaric warheads did not disintegrate, the fires certainly reduced them to ashes. This left Valentine forces with only the broken, ruined city, offering virtually no benefits. All infrastructure and supplies had been irrevocably damaged. Even if the ruins of the city could shield against unlikely Hylian strategic weapons such as cruise missiles, it would've been impractical to set up any supply base within the city, for the roads had been devastated and navigation inside was impractical. This was not even counting for the fact that many of the buildings that had survived both explosions and fire – some of them easily thirty or forty stories tall – eventually gave away to damage, erosion, and stress, and would suddenly collapse, dissolving into nothing but rubble and a great cloud of dust that would expand for many hours before eventually disappearing completely. Sometimes, it even set off a chain reaction, with one tower crashing into another as it toppled, creating a domino effect of weakened buildings that turned the entire city into a hazard zone.

Thusly, the only usage that Valentine forces found out of Astric was as a navigational marker. A small forward base acting as a resupply depot had been set up in the outskirts of the city simply because even the ruins of a city was probably much easier to locate than a vague geographic location in the middle of nowhere. Astric itself remained abandoned.

Unsurprisingly, Major Juno of the 1st Special Investigative Unit found it to be the perfect location to hold a highly clandestine meeting.

It was impossible even for an all-terrain vehicle such as a humvee to properly navigate the ruined streets of Astric, so after having landed at the supply base at the outskirts, Juno had commandeered authority over two infantrymen, having them follow her on foot into the depths of downtown Astric. Both wielded assault rifles and kept an eye out for any threats even as their temporary commanding officer moved deftly through the wreckage. The city was completely desolate, but with an intelligence major wielding National Defense Committee authority, no one was taking any chances. And it wasn't necessarily the enemy they were looking out for. Damage to Astric, Juno noted, was remarkably different from October City. Aside from the massive crater where Jormungand had exploded, October City looked no different from any war-torn city with its share of battlefield damage. But the damage to Astric was impossibly severe, having endured almost seventy-two hours of heavy weapons bombardment from a ridiculous amount of cannons, launchers, and bombs. It was probably not at all an exaggeration to say that the combination of artillery shells, thermobaric warheads, cluster bombs, bunker busters, and all other manners of tactical-level weapons carpeted the city, like the fires of hell itself blazing through Astric. Even now, the city looked like it was a relic of an ancient civilization, a ruin from ages past. Juno, in spite of herself, was honestly quite impressed. Endure, Astric did, but barely; the soldiers escorting the military intelligence officer would watch with nervousness as, in the distance, another building finally succumbed to damage and toppled to the streets, crushing anything in its way, disappearing from against the backdrop of an orange sunset that matched the lingering embers that still burned…before praying that nothing of the sort happenings anywhere near _them_.

Downtown Astric was calling it quits, and the Valentine soldiers didn't want to be anywhere close.

Continuing to walk down the street, Juno did not stop until, from the alleys, a solitary figure emerged, light casting away shadows from his frame. Instinctively, the soldiers escorting Juno took up flanking positions and aimed their assault rifles at the man who had emerged, but they did not fire, and would not unless they perceived him to be a definite threat against the ranking officer.

The major, for her part, remained calm even as the man stopped in front of the alley he emerged of. There was a distance of ten meters between them. She regarded that distance carefully, pondered firefight dynamics, hypothesized scenarios, envisioning all the possibilities where things may go wrong and degenerate into violence. _Ten meters_, she thought curiously. _Such a dangerous distance_. In Interlingua, Juno spoke, "Verify yourself, Stranger C."

Without the assistance of a scrambler, the man's voice came out distinct; there was a rough rumble the deep tone of an aging man. "Charlie-Echo-India-November," he replied calmly in the same tongue.

Juno gave a small, terse smile of satisfaction, gestured for her men to lower their weapons. "You're careful," she noted as a distant rumble told of another crumbling building in the distance.

"Nations need only to reach out to crush mercenaries like us," Stranger C. merely stated. "We've learned to be safe."

"Indeed," replied the major with what almost sounded like a single lilting laugh before swiveling her head just slightly to the soldiers who were still taking flanking positions. "Leave us." Both infantrymen hesitated for just a moment, but the desire to follow orders and not stay anywhere near buildings that could collapse on them won out, and they quickly disappeared down the street. That was just as well; Juno wanted to keep the entire mission – as well as her association with mercenary assets – a closely-guarded secret. Turning her attention back onto Stranger C., she stated in what sounded like an official tone, the light, formal arrogance of a commanding officer, "This meeting isn't happening, you've never met me, and you certainly didn't receive any funds for the mission you're about to accept."

Stranger C. remained silent, having little care for dramatics. Juno's jaw clenched slightly, but it was difficult to make out an expression; was it the equivalent of a subtle grin in approval of professionalism, or a grimace that she had been so flippantly brushed off?

Still, the major took the moment to study Stranger C. for the first time face-to-face. By no means was she familiar with the different ethnic minorities of Gerudo, comprised of the great many different ancient tribes in its historic past, but – wherever in the desert he had originated from – it was impossible to hide the fact that Stranger C. was ethnically Gerudo. His short hair was a red shade of copper, his skin a lighter shade of tan. He was not an ugly man, but there was a rough, stone-hard quality to him. The face betrayed traces of a crisscrossing mesh of scars, as if he had been thrown into a room with explosives at some point, and pieces of shrapnel had left skin-deep wounds in all directions, enough to leave dark, angry lines, but not enough to disfigure his face. Beneath a cloak that kept out the sun and obscured his figure down to a mere shade, clothes that vaguely resembled a combat uniform outlined an athletically muscular body. An assault rifle was slung around his back on a shoulder strap. _A KS-74_, Juno noted the model quietly, recognizing as an older assault rifle variant that was sold rather indiscriminately in the decades following the Second Continental War as budget cuts came through to save the economy, the military was downsized, and weapons were sold for extra revenue. Due to the model's durability and ease of maintenance, and how easy it was to get one of them off the civilian or black market, it was a favorite amongst terrorists, insurgents, and rebels.

Juno knew that one shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but Stranger C. exuded an air of professionalism. That was certainly appreciable.

"Your target is the man you were monitoring in Garuda," Juno quickly explained, fishing into her pocket and producing a small, handheld computer before displaying the image of the familiar blond young man on the screen. Undoubtedly, Stranger C. had the same pictures – he had transmitted them to her in the first place – but this was not something the major allowed an error margin for. "We haven't ascertained his identity yet, but we have a strong belief that he's a Hylian Joint Intelligence agent. As his appearance passes for a Valentine and he has been wearing the uniform of a Valentine special forces operator, he has been able to infiltrate our lines, and has been moving to destroy our strategic assets."

"With Valentine forces having held onto Hyrule City since the beginning of the war," Stranger C. noted stoically, "I would have assumed identifying this man would've been a simple matter once your received the images I've transmitted to you."

"There have been complications in the verification process, so that will have to wait," answered Juno, quite proud that the cool in her voice was sufficient to mask what was definitely a rising ire at the back of her head. The Gerudo mercenary's comment had served only to remind her once again that – despite repeated requests to both the National Defense Committee and the Valentine royal chief of staff – authorization for her to access Joint Intelligence databases, currently under the jurisdiction of King Tacitus himself, was still denied. "You are currently our best option on the table. The vast majority of our own military forces in the region are contending with the Hylians, and what remains is poorly-equipped to handle the possibility of infiltrators posing as one of us."

Again, Stranger C. poked at possible holes in the fabric of truths and lies the Valentine intelligence major provided him. "I would have assumed this would be a task you would leave to your special forces and not to outsiders."

"A fair point," agreed Juno, noting that – despite her desire for professionalism – a great degree of competence could possibly hurt her in the long run, especially for individuals whose loyalties she could not guarantee like this South Gerudo mercenary and the partner he had but was hiding somewhere in the area. "As it happens to be, however, I am not eager to use special forces for various reasons. I do not trust them to be reliable and fully answerable to me." Juno understood all too well that special forces would side with Alexandria in an instant if given the choice, if they haven't already. It was pure luck that Juno herself had been flying into a city in the nearby region when the military chain of command finally passed down news that special forces encountered what was possibly a Hylian infiltrator disguised as special forces near the small township of Welfare. That it took ten hours for special forces to eventually relay such intelligence to her was no coincidence, and the major was convinced Alexandria already had this information ahead of time. "Furthermore, new regulations have been passed to hamper their autonomous actions and movements ever since we discovered the saboteur is likely to be posing as a member of special forces. Therefore, the only lethal force I believe can keep up with such a saboteur are independent operatives such as yourselves."

That last statement came with the insinuation that there could be other independent operatives aside from Stranger C., and Juno had kept her voice dispassionate enough to prevent the mercenary from figuring out either or. But if he cared in particular or was in any way concerned, he, too, hid it behind a stoic visage, asking instead, "His target?"

"His last known whereabouts indicates there's a strong likelihood he's attacking our maritime assets." Juno had no intention of telling mercenaries that the Hylian infiltrator was likely to attack Jormungand. Stranger C. could probably figure it out by himself on his own time – if he hadn't already – but Valent's strategic weapons were still considered classified, and the intelligence major didn't intend to let anyone know more than they had to. "Which areas he's attacking is viable to change on an hourly basis, but I will keep you appraised via the usual methods whenever I receive new intelligence." Her eyes narrowed dangerously, striking an ironic contrast with her following words. "Keep your eyes open, though; where there's smoke, there's a fire."

The older, grizzled mercenary merely nodded. "I'll need transportation."

"I'll give you codes that will allow you to commandeer certain Valentine assets under my authority." This would include long-range transportation options, including insertion into an area by aircraft, something that Juno felt was entirely justified; Hyrule had a long stretch of northern coasts and beaches, and it was difficult to ascertain where the Hylian saboteur would try to make his way into Valentine-controlled waters, if he even got that far. It was a significant privilege for any mercenary to have, and it was definitely going to cause some form of bad feeling amongst the enlisted if – or, really, _when_ – mercenaries demanded that the soldiers transport them around as if the hired guns were officers. She operated under National Defense Committee authority, but receiving too many complaints would also hamper her progress. "It'd be best if you don't abuse them."

Juno wondered if Stranger C. would have a witty comeback to that, but she never had the chance to tell; from the side, another figure – slight of build, long black hair, a blade in the shape of a large boomerang or a kukri – had suddenly appeared. That the girl was here didn't surprise Juno; it had been fairly obvious, even with Juno observing Stranger C.'s actions secondhand from Dartemis when the mercenary was still in Garuda, that the mercenary he hired had backup or a partner in one form or another. What major wasn't sure of was _how_ the girl suddenly came to be _here_, and could only venture a guess that this girl, perhaps only sixteen or seventeen years of age with a calm, expressionless face, had simply jumped in from somewhere across the debris.

"Master," the girl spoke, her voice clear, concise, and deliberate, but also obviously submissive at the same time as she dropped onto a knee before Stranger C. "There is movement to the south."

The older mercenary didn't seem too bothered by this news. "Valentine or Hylian?" he inquired.

"I did not see clearly, master," the girl spoke once again, a bit of shame in her voice, as if she had failed somehow. "But I do not think it is either. They are not moving in any manner I am familiar with, or anything that the simulations have shown before."

That drew a somewhat surprised, if not foreboding, glance from Stranger C., but he refused to show what was piecing together in the wealth of combat experience in his head. Keeping her thoughts to herself, Juno merely turned from where she stood, already beginning to move away to where she had removed her escorts. Business was done here; she'd continue the hunt, and the mercenaries would carry out the execution. Time was being wasted here now, watching these mundane events unfold before her. "Keep your eyes peeled," demanded the major, even as the girl finally rose back to her feet via some unspoken cue from Stranger C. "You'll have the necessary codes soon. Take out that infiltrator."

* * *

Astric was the rendezvous point selected by the zorans, and it certainly made a good amount of sense. It was a specific location with cover, effective for guerilla action, and largely abandoned and neglected by Valentine forces. Naturally, the very prospect of being within a city threatening to collapse onto itself had its own inherent risks, but with the situation as dire as it was, with haste and secrecy of utmost importance, and with normal electronic means of navigation being a fairly limited option with the presence of enemy jamming, Astric was not a bad choice of location to meet at all. The zorans must've considered all these elements when they passed on the directions to Link through MICO.

Still, as Link watched the meeting of three dispersed from less than fifty meters away from his prone position beneath several large pieces of debris, the Joint Intelligence operative couldn't help but feel as if things had taken a turn for the worse. It was nothing short of luck – something Link was increasingly aware that he seemed to have in abundance, but didn't want to press that advantage too hard – that he was able to stumble across this meeting at all, but it confirmed his fears, that Valentine had dedicated resources to hunt down him and _specifically_ him. And that there were Southern Gerudo mercenaries in their employ, and that all this was happening while he was attempting what was probably an even more ridiculous infiltration of enemy-held territory when compared to the operation to destroy Anansi.

Although it was unlikely that there would be much in the way of enemy patrols in Astric, after their disastrous experience in the morning involving a special forces pursuit force, Link and Durandara had decided they weren't going to take any more chances. Stashing Epona away in the nearby woodlands, Link had infiltrated Astric on foot using a combination of sewers, back alleys, and windows to move through undetected. It was good that they didn't bring the motorcycle; the streets had been so badly damaged that large pieces of cement and asphalt were jutting into the air, making it all but impossible for any type of vehicle to pass.

The zorans had gave a very vague generalization of where they were supposed to meet within the city – where Jessica was also supposed to be as well, Link recalled – but the Joint Intelligence operative soon realized that, with Astric as badly damaged as it was, discerning _anything_ from this mess had been difficult.

It was while he was trying to move to Durandara's directions that he found himself crawling under several large pieces of debris at ground level…then suddenly stopped where he was in the shadows under cover when, a few dozens of meters away, Link spotted human figures – very much alive and not a charred mess – apparently in some kind of discussion.

A Valentine military officer with a two-man escort. Then the escort left, replaced a bit later by a female roughly his age. Both Link and Durandara instantly began to lip-read their discussion while Durandara attempted to function as a directional microphone to pick up whatever audio signatures she could out of the conversation. The lips of the observed parties had not constantly been within sight, but both Link and Durandara silently agreed that – given the context of the words exchanged before and after the ones they missed – they had the basic gist of what was going on, and did not require far too much else in terms of details.

It took as long as all of them dispersing for both of them to realize the implications were not good.

"It's difficult to tell what changes have been enacted to military uniforms in Valent over the past two decades," Durandara whispered directly into Link's ear, cutting down on the already minimal chances that there'd be any eavesdroppers or audio surveillance, "but I'm venturing a guess that the major was affiliated with military intelligence. I have no data specifically on her, but I can make several assumptions based on what we've seen and heard. I think Vincent was right about Valentine having put together some kind of special unit dealing with you specifically. They've arrived at some very astute conclusions far too quickly, and I think they're very much aware you're after Jormungand now."

That was probably the worst thing for Link, the fact that the enemy not only knew that he was here, but exactly what he was sabotaging. It meant the enemy knew exactly what to look for, what to protect. Getting anywhere near Jormungand was probably impossible at this point.

"The silver lining here, however, is that I _think_ my voice analyzer's picking up on stress regarding issues regarding special forces. My first guesses on her intonation may hint that special forces is really crippled by bureaucracy and accountability to the point of strategic ineffectiveness, or that they're deliberately leaving the major out of the loop in what could possibly be political in-fighting."

That was certainly welcome news, but the Hylian infiltrator didn't think it was something that offset the ridiculous advantage the enemy had. That Valentine special forces were now on a leash meant Link did not have to worry so much about the possibility of enemy hunt-and-kill teams being unleashed across the region to track him down specifically, but that didn't change the fact that it was all too likely that the entire Valentine chain of command – from the National Defense Committee to the lowliest grunts – knew that what was likely to be their super-submarine was being targeted, and was to be defended at all costs.

"I _do_ have a facial and voiceprint match on the male," continued Durandara, her voice deliberately trying to pick up a brighter note, "a mercenary whom we believe has used the aliases of Hassan, Kashim, and Stranger C. in the past. Real name is unknown. He's based out of Southern Gerudo; that place has been ground zero for mercenaries, criminals, terrorists, and all forms of scum since the Second Southern Gerudo Civil War."

That last statement told a whole lot. Even without the explanation from Durandara, Link knew that dissatisfaction against the central government in the region was fierce, and although its inhabitants – having fought two civil wars against their northern leaders – no longer had the power for organized rebellion, Garuda had given up on most attempts to station a lot of policing assets there, being too costly and too ineffective to implement against an uncooperative population. National policy of utilizing military force if necessary was what has been preventing Southern Gerudo from outright declaring their independence.

"MICO hasn't been keen on sharing intel on their own insurgents with us," Durandara went on, and Link knew that no intelligence agency liked having their own dirty laundry flapping in the wind, "but Hylian intelligence has been able to put together some info on this guy as well. We believe he's been a guerilla fighter for Southern Gerudo, part of at least two different regional militias since as early as 1490, maybe even earlier. Details on his operations are sketchy, but we believe he's been involved in some of the bloodier battles of the Five Year War. Details on his operations are sketchy, but we believe he's been involved in some of the bloodier battles of the Five Year War. He eventually turned mercenary somewhere around the turn of the century. The guy _may_ have been involved in Director Emi's car bombing in 1501," there was a note of mild satisfaction in Durandara's voice as she said that, as if that alone was worthy of the AI's respect, "but that's not been verified."

Translation: This mercenary was deadly good. Link had not even been scouted by Joint Intelligence during the time of the Five Year War, but he knew enough from his history and from later specialization schooling when he _was_ scouted by Joint Intelligence that the Five Year War – not actually being a war as much as it was a prolonged series of extremely hostile exchanges between MICO-led government forces and Southern Gerudo guerillas – was one of the most intense, convoluted, and heated conflicts in the modern history of warfare within the last two decades. And the aforementioned car bombing took place in 1501, a year after Emi became director of MICO and therefore one of the most powerful, experienced, and well-protected figures in the Gerudo military intelligence community. That anyone could manage to sneak a car bomb next to her – _in_ her car, in fact – was amazing. The man was comfortable with all forms of life-taking: Conventional warfare, unconventional warfare, terrorism, assassination, guns, knives, bombs.

It was clear that this man – Hassan or Kashim or Stranger C. or whatever he was really called – was an experienced career fighter who knew exactly what he was doing. Moreso than any other time, Link needed to tread carefully. If he had a choice in the matter, Link would avoid having to exchange blows with him, but he had a sneaking suspicion – given how things have worked out so far – that such fortune was not going to happen to him.

"We don't have a voiceprint match for the girl, or she simply didn't say enough for me to put together a complete audio profile, but her accent indicates that she's from the same region, although possibly different upbringing. She's probably also acting on regional sentimentality and taking advantage of this rare time of upset for business like everyone else, or is probably a slave for someone with similar ideologies, possibly our Southern Gerudo mercenary there."

Link's head tilted slightly at the word "slave", which Durandara did not fail to notice.

"Gerudo was a loose alliance of factions to begin with. Southern Gerudo's main beef with the central government – well, _one_ of them, anyways – is decidedly that of culture, among many other things, which Southern Gerudo believes the north is sacrificing in exchange for technological advancement and modernism. Others denounce it as an attempt to conform to social norms of Hyrule and Valent. Many of the laws passed by the central government don't make it to the south, there's enough legal autonomy for each of the factions to decide whether or not they want to adopt certain laws, and the central government doesn't try to press too hard unless it comes to a vote of national consequences. As a result, traditional practices, such as legal slavery and honor duels, still exist down there, even if it's condemned by Garuda." For an artificial intelligence developed by the self-claimed bastion of human rights and humanitarian efforts, the Hylian Durandara did not seem to show any signs or tones of disgust or anger at this revelation.

A moment of silence, with no verbal or physical response whatsoever from Link, was all Durandara needed to figure out that Link wanted her to continue with the explanation.

There was a slight edge in Durandara's voice that suggested she would've actually sighed had she possessed lungs. "I really don't need to tell you what the chances are looking like, Link," was all she was willing to put forth. "Valentine dedicated intelligence units, Southern Gerudo mercenaries…the mission has really gone from very bad to completely insane. It's your call, Link. I don't think anyone will blame you if you call it quits."

Link took several long moments to consider. As it stood, Valent knew that there was a Hylian infiltrator masquerading as a special force first lieutenant, they probably knew what he _looked_ like, and they knew what the sabotage target was. These facts by themselves made the execution of the mission virtually impossible…but there was one aspect that the Valentine intelligence major did not mention, something that Link had a feeling he could possibly exploit: The zorans. It was entirely possible that Valentine military intelligence had no idea that he was out here at all because the zorans claimed they had some way of dealing with Jormungand. While Link was not entirely convinced that they had a truly effective method to solve their problems, he had to admit that if anyone could come up with an aquatic solution, it'd probably be the zorans. Besides, at this point, trying to sneak all the way back to safe territory – whether that be Gerudo or New Wagner or Charlotte – through the vast expanses of enemy-held regions was probably going to be a lot more risky than just proceeding with the mission. At the very least, he should listen to what the zorans had to say before committing to a more concrete decision.

At least, that's if the zorans didn't just decide to kill him first. Or if he even managed to find them at all.

Link gave a short, terse nod: They were going to proceed with the mission.

"Suicidal tendencies still very much prominent," Durandara stated in a matter-of-fact tone, but her voice was kept neutral enough for Link to not be entirely sure whether the AI approved or disapproved of "his call". "Very well, let's go find those zorans."

Crawling out from the hole formed by pieces of debris, Link pushed himself back onto his feet, moved through the street wreckages and through what were once small shops lined against the sidewalk. Damage to them had been so severe that entire chunks of walls had been destroyed and gone missing, allowing Link to sneak through with minimal effort and maximum cover. So long as the enemy didn't know he was here, and that he didn't stumble over even more special forces – which was an event that might not actually last long, if Vincent's diversion back near Welfare didn't work as well as expected – Link felt that he had a significant terrain advantage.

Fifteen minutes of moving across the ruined landscape and attempting to find any sign of the zorans that were supposed to meet them, his search was temporarily interrupted by what sounded like gunfire. The shape of the buildings nearby made the sound seem deceptively distant, but Link could tell it was merely the effect of the sounds echoing through the streets and derelict high-rises; if he had to guess, the origin of the shots probably came from the other side of the city block.

There were at least three different models of guns being fired amongst what sounded like at least five or six combatants, none of which sounded distinctly identifiable. One of the models sounded vaguely familiar, perhaps an older non-Hylian weapon, but the exchange of bullets sounded heated, rapid. At least one side in the battle was not firing in the professional military matter of controlled bursts, instead choosing to spray bullets all over the place.

"That doesn't sound like resisting Hylians," Durandara observed. She sounded curious and – for some reason – annoyed.

Although it was logical to assume that AI made that declaration due the sound signatures of gunfire not matching any Hylian model profiles, Link arrived at a similar conclusion largely out of common sense. It was pretty difficult to imagine any surviving Hylian forces still in Astric, given how thoroughly Valentine forces had destroyed the city; everyone had probably either long fled…or found themselves burnt to ashes.

It was therefore also logical to make another assumption, to arrive at another conclusion.

"I think we have a good idea where to find our zorans," Durandara quipped. Ensuring that his gunsword arm was ready to handle a threat at any range, Link nodded in concurrence.

Gunfire from a city that was supposed to be devoid of all combat activity naturally made Link cautious, and he moved slowly with maximum cover and concealment, using walls and wreckages to his advantage, being wary of both combatants and possible reinforcements from either side of the conflict. Two Valentine humvees passed with a fireteam each, but none of the vehicles' occupants spotted the infiltrator amidst the carnage and wreckage. Still, it was cause for concern; that reinforcements were being called for _and_ deployed in Astric indicated there could be an escalation in the situation…or, plainly, that the zorans – or whoever was engaging Valentine forces – were attracting far too much attention for their own good. The rapid back-and-forth amongst multiple assault rifles told of a rather heated yet also rather unprofessional conflict.

Although Link had hoped to find some kind of elevated position to engage in surveillance or possibly even sniper action – his experiences thus far had placed an emphasis on being unseen and unheard in the presence of entire military units – there was no place amongst the rubble and wreckage that piled on the street that offered him decent concealment, decent cover, and decent lines of sight that a sharpshooter would otherwise require. Husks of high-rises and commercial buildings on both sides of the street still stood, if only barely, but Link could spot no staircases or good ways to climb up without possibly alerting whoever was around the block and shooting. He therefore found himself approaching the firefight on foot and at street level by the time he had turned the corner and pressed himself against the remains of what used to be a Hylian APC, peering past the edges of its armor plating to catch multiple muzzle flashes not too far down the street, betraying the positions of Valentine shooters. The infiltrator recognized the two humvees that had pulled past him earlier, saw that the machine guns mounted on both vehicles were manned but not firing just yet. A quick count also revealed the presence of about thirteen, maybe fourteen Valentine infantrymen engaged in a firefight with targets Link could not see from his position, hardly the kind of odds he wanted to face with no backup and no plan.

Still, he couldn't see exactly what the Valentine soldiers were shooting at thanks to how badly damaged the street was. Massive pieces of debris ranging from melted husks of what used to be vehicles, entire blocks of concrete of what used to be rooftops, and jagged and menacing hills of what used to be streets made any line of sight down the streets difficult, and made Link lament that higher elevation was simply not available at the moment. But from what he managed to see as he navigated the debris, using terrain and obstacles to his advantage and staying hidden from Valentine eyes that were apparently a lot more focused on the firefight, the agent managed to catch several glimpses of Valentine soldiers firing into what almost looked like a depression, a section of an entire street that had apparently caved in a bit. Just by sight and sound alone, Link was both surprised and unsurprised: Surprised that the firefight was lasting longer than it did, given that Valentine forces seemed to have the elevation and numeric advantages in this particular exchange, and unsurprised that the zorans – if they were indeed such – were fighting at a disadvantage, given that they were not likely to have embraced the fundamentals of modern warfare.

Except it was as Link contemplated this, as he closed in, that multiple detonations suddenly rocked him, jolted the bones in his very body, blasts shaking the world around him. In surprise, his head snapped around to look to the sides of the firefight, saw two plumes of smoke and dust suddenly erupt from both sides of the streets, at the bottom floors of the high-rises on either side that temporarily obscured the firefight from Link's line of sight. The Hylian infiltrator was just experienced enough with explosives to tell – simply from the yield and formation of the blast – that the bombs detonated had not been military grade, but something more like an improvised explosive device, an IED, made from homemade or commercial materials, perhaps laced with a bit of spare military explosives scrounged together from abandoned battlefields. The blasts themselves were remarkably small, and operated more as a surgical charge than an actual bomb. It was loud, yes, but it wasn't the kind of ordinance that would be adequate to deal significant damage to military units unless they were extremely well-placed; Link seriously doubted that the blasts, having been positioned within the buildings on either side, had even managed to adequately reach the Valentine fireteams shooting at their foes. Given the positioning of the explosives and its lack of yield, the agent assumed that this was generally as good as zorans got in terms of setting up ambushes and placing explosives.

But, as Link suddenly realized when a great rumbling began to shake the world around him, the bombs were never meant to do any damage to the Valentine units at all.

Everyone on the street looked up to see high-rises around them began to topple down into the streets from high above, massive pieces of debris and entire chunks of buildings beginning their plummet right onto where they were. The explosives had simply destroyed the supports on buildings already standing on their last legs and ready to collapse like a pile of bricks. A pile of very, very large bricks falling from great distances above, beginning to obscure the sky as great manmade walls tipped and crashed into each other, sealing what thin view of the sky the streets provided in the first place. The world rumbled and crackled, pieces of debris of all sizes beginning its inexorable plummet towards the ground below, debris that easily achieved the sizes of entire housing complexes.

"Manhole!" Durandara screeched, not bothering with secrecy anymore as she took holographic form and pointed down on the street to a manhole – what _used_ to be a manhole, but was now largely part of a bigger crater in the middle of melted asphalt – her expression stuck somewhere between a combination of fury and panic. "Down manhole, _now_!"

Having been staring up dumbstruck at the sight of entire high-rises beginning to collapse towards him, Link admitted that – _this_ time – he needed that prompt. It had been so much easier and a lot less intimidating when the high-rises in October City were falling towards him as he escaped on a motorcycle. On foot, however, they were less of objects to be dodged as much as they were monumental reminders that – despite his victories, despite his ability to pull off the ridiculous, despite his having managed to sneak past entire militaries twice, despite his having destroyed a superweapon with little more than his equipment and his wits – he was ultimately still very much mortal. That thought became a lot less important, however, as Durandara's words snapped out like a crack of a whip, and he began a mad sprint forward, his feet instinctively navigating every crack, every bump, every fissure, every obstacle in the asphalt street that stood between himself and the manhole-crater that provided little promise that it would provide him any form of protection against tons of concrete, steel, and glass that was beginning to crash down like a falling sky.

Paying no mind to the Valentine soldiers further down the street trying to rush to their humvees and escape the impact zone, and having only a vague, distant realization that they were doomed, Link completed the last five meters of his journey towards the manhole by sliding across the asphalt, his body slipping into a small-hole-turned-small-crater feet-first before he was tumbling down towards the sewers below. Gloved hands reached out to support his drop down what were street and earth and concrete, slowing what was otherwise still a slightly daunting descent. By no means was it a smooth process; pain laced across his body with every bump against a protruding rock or metallic beam, and against his hands as he near-futilely tried to retain control of his falling slide down into the sewers as he grabbed at horribly disfigured objects that were still remarkably solid and jagged.

Rather belatedly, the Joint Intelligence agent realized that the earlier firefight had been deliberately unprofessional in its lack of control where sprays of bullets were concerned, that whoever had instigated the exchange of hostilities in the first place was merely using the attention usually given to flying bullets as a means to lure Valentine forces into the kill zone. Also belatedly, he was suddenly quite thankful that higher elevation, which he had coveted mere seconds ago for better vantage points, had not been available; he really doubted he would've made it into the manhole in time had he been off the street and in a building somewhere…a building that was in the process of being reduced to a very, very large pile of rubble.

It was seconds later – Link really wasn't trying to count anymore – that his tumble finally leveled out into a more controllable slide, and he finally went into a split-second of freefall as the crater ran out of earth and he dropped into the sewers below, landing painfully feet-first onto the concrete paths below. He stumbled, almost falling into the dirty waters in the process, but, mercifully, he recovered at the very last second, stabilizing himself with his hands as pulling his body up. The pain that shot through the agent's body – that had been a very ungraceful entry – was great, but ultimately manageable.

The sewers were, Link approximated, about eight, maybe nine meters below ground level, providing six or seven meters of reinforced concrete, earth, and metal between himself and the buildings that were now falling down onto the streets like the world's largest set of sledgehammers.

The infiltrator really, _really_ hoped six to seven meters was enough to prevent the sewers – and himself – from being flattened, but, just to be safe, he ran.

As it turned out, it wasn't _quite_ enough. As Link sprinted – almost limping – down the narrow sewer corridor, the great jolts behind him that shook everything indicated the first of the debris came down. It was worse than the time when he had been hiding in overpass tunnel as Anansi attempted to crash down on him from above by jumping…_much_ worse. The agent felt almost as if the world was threatening to throw him off his very feet, felt entire blocks of concrete being pulled from under him as if they were merely patches of carpet being tanked out from beneath his feet. He had barely gotten enough distance when the third and fourth waves of debris struck the ground above, the sewer ceilings, and the ceiling finally gave way, crumbling and bringing down the thick barrier between street and sewer. Entire sections came down, crushing everything in its way, falling upon the areas that Link had just barely passed through a split-second before. Rubble chased after his heels, cut at his legs, threatened to trip him and end his mad escape, but the agent managed to make it _just_ fast enough to escape the worse of it, leaving the pileup of ruin behind him even as he gasped for ragged breaths, placing his hands on his knees to support his weight that could barely be held up by sore, almost numb legs. Every breath hurt; the cave-in of the sewers kept the worst of it above street level, but the air was still filled with dust from the debris, threatening to clog up Link's lungs with poisonous particles.

"Okay." Even the artificial intelligence Link carried sounded like she was out of breath. "That was _way_ too close. Like, _way_ too close. Let's never, _ever_ do that again."

Link could only nod numbly in agreement. Oxygen was being choked out of his lungs, as if all the dust was pushing them out of his innards. Almost in a daze, he tried stumbling forward, tried to get somewhere safer, somewhere they was healthier for his lungs.

But even as he moved, even as he stumbled his way through narrow corridors, poor visibility, and a horrid smell that was masked only by the scent of charred metal and concrete, Link still managed to keep his eye out for threats, knowing all too well that he was still in the middle of enemy territory, and in the middle of searching for the zorans who had dragged him all the way out here in this hellhole to begin with. Which was why, when he rounded a T-intersection in the sewers barely a minute later, stumbling his way around the turn, the blade of the agent's gunsword had already come to bear and rested beside the neck of the one figure coming around from the other side. On the contrary, what seemed to look very much like a bayonet mounted on a KS-74 assault rifle had its tip right at Link's throat, pressed against it so that the agent could feel the metal point threatening to dig a hole there.

In the darkness with only silhouettes for clues, it was easy for anyone to mistake the figure as simply human with a fleeting glance, but it was on the second glance that Link realized this was not the case. The entire body was covered in silver scales that gave the body a slightly blue sheen, resembling nothing like human skin. A long "tail", resembling the rear half of a fish or dolphin, formed what would've been the human equivalent of hair, stretching down from the back of the head to legs. The silhouette wore some clothing, resembling medieval light armor, but most of the body was bared, and Link could make out slits for what could possibly be gills. His entire body was sleek, good for swimming through water, and his feet were webbed for better propulsion. Long, prominent fins hung from his arms, and the agent suddenly recalled that a good number of zorans were able to discharge significant electric shocks from them through physical contact, a significant advantage that they used to deadly effect during their war with the Provisional Human Army, outfighting soldiers and knights more reliant on melee weaponry that also made great conductors of lethal voltage. It was too early to figure out if he needed to classify the zorans as enemies, but Link made a mental note to restrict himself to only handgun mode and conserve ammunition when around these aquatic humanoids; he didn't want to make the same mistakes his ancestors did a century and a half ago.

It was the first time Link had ever come face-to-face with a zoran. He had never seen one in real life before, only in a textbook when he was in a state-sponsored orphanage. In fact, it was more proper to say he had never actually been involved with zorans, except for that one mission where he and two agents from Hyrule's intelligence community were to incapacitate a human supremacist group that had managed to find Second Continental War submarine depth charges and dropped them into zoran natural reserves, but that had been dealing with fellow humans.

He knew a few things about the zorans, of course, what everyone already knew: That they were an aquatic-based near-humanoid race, aggressive, primitive, and warlike. Almost two hundred years ago, they fought with a unified human front over maritime resources, and launched three "crusades" over nearly half a century, attacks based on the concept of "indiscriminate warfare", where an entire fast-moving army made their way ashore and destroyed everything in their way: Armies, bases, cities, civilian populations. They tore through infrastructure, supplies, and – most importantly – morale. They also bought time: The crusades had been timed perfectly with the buildup of forces necessary for the Provisional Human Army to bring the fight to the zorans, and the combined forces of Hyrule, Gerudo, and Valent had to recover and recuperate for their losses after every crusade. But it was the Third Zoran Crusade where they made a miscalculation, where an outnumbered Valentine army thoroughly demolished a massive zoran fighting force in the Battle of Dendrite Falls. This massive failure derived the zorans of an adequate defense force, while human forces themselves remained largely intact. Realizing that further fighting was futile and the protection of civilian lives were more important, the zorans officially surrendered to the Provisional Human Army in 1265. That was a century and a half ago.

The signing of the First Zoran Accord was remarkably humiliating for the zorans, who became third-class citizens and slaves as they were relocated to "natural reserves", patches of aquatic bodies that the humans did not have use for. Victor's justice persisted until a civil rights movement sprang up in the middle of the fifteenth century, fighting for the recognition of equality for zorans. It led to the rise of great zoran civil rights activists such as Madonna, but with the death of the leaders who advocated peaceful reconciliation, the movement lost fuel, and interest for equality eventually died. Having mutual disdain and racism die with it, however, was probably too much to ask for. Inequality was still very much a reality even in such times, humans in general felt largely justified in thinking that zorans were primitive and violent savages, and – in hindsight – Link realized that even _he_ was not immune to slight sentiments of zoran inferiority, having judged earlier that the zorans were not likely to understand the fundamentals of modern warfare. For better or for worse, the three countries of the continent rarely cared about the zorans, content to leave them in their natural reserves, so long as they paid their taxes like all other citizens.

Joint Intelligence had never truly focused on these aquatic humanoids since the organization's founding, and Link's knowledge on these humanoids was mostly in the realm of common sense, but the agent had a vague suspicion that the zorans probably wouldn't like him very much on principle.

When the zoran spoke, he did so in a copper-like voice, as if some thin metallic piece was also reverberating deep within his throat, producing what sounded almost like a hum or ring as words formed in the air. "You're Agent Link." It was not a question, but merely a statement of confirmation to oneself; the tone was both hard and suspicious. Despite that, the Hylian infiltrator nodded an affirmative, his chin dangerously brushing against the bayonet. He tried to study the zoran's eyes, tried to tell something – anything – from them, but they were cold, flinty, hard, and betrayed nothing. This particular zoran was decorated with a mosaic of body paint, piercings, and what almost resembled tribal ornaments made of bones and pearls strung together in a combination of necklaces, sashes, and belts. Link couldn't help but wonder in which direction zoran culture had developed over the last few centuries, and if that direction included "backwards".

Shouts from further into the darkness of the sewers caught both of their attentions. Words were being loudly exchanged, both in Valentine and some alien language Link could only imagine was some kind of zoran language. No gunfire yet, though, which meant both forces were nearby, but had not engaged each other yet. Either some Valentine stragglers managed to make their way down to the sewers in their desperate escape from the falling debris after all, or they had been in the narrow passageways much earlier as part of an operation to eliminate zoran resistance in the area.

The zoran before the agent turned away from the sounds, focused instead on Link. After a moment, his weapon was removed from his confronter's throat. "Follow," he merely demanded, and he moved away, towards the sounds of shouts and cries and signs of impending battle.

Link hesitated. The zoran offered no explanation, no attempt to elaborate upon the situation. Jessica was nowhere to be seen. But as the sounds of explosions and rumblings above made its way down, reminding him that the city around him was very literally crumbling down and tearing apart, the agent – his body already responding to the zoran's command before his mind had been made up – decided that answers could probably wait _just_ a bit longer.

* * *

The outlying streets surrounding Astric proper were far less damaged than what could be found in the core of the city, but it wasn't hard to improve on a city that had been demolished into something that looked like ruins that were centuries-old. Juno still had to latch onto whatever she could in her humvee even as her driver swerved sharply through the streets to avoid debris as he continued on the process of bringing her, her escort, and a subordinate intelligence officer attached to the Valentine outfit in Astric back to the resupply depot where command and control – and safety – were waiting. The fact that the driver was speeding as he made these sharp turns did not make Juno's ride any easier, but – for once – she found little reason to criticize this decision.

High-rises threatening to topple on them and crush their vehicles and occupants tended to make even the most insane of people want to not be anywhere close. Even with the vehicle's suspensions, the tumbling of buildings behind them shook the vehicle with almost as much strength as the turns the driver was putting them through.

For one thing, the intelligence major had very different concerns from the rest of the Valentine military in the area. Whereas commanding officers of the regular army were no doubt in a rage over the fact that what was supposed to be a firefight against opportunist zorans had devolved into a process that turned the ruins of Astric into some kind of unholy mess of a massive domino game, Juno was incensed by the fact that no one was filling her in on any pertinent information.

"And why the hell am I not being appraised?" she was screaming into the military phone, utilizing the advantages of military bureaucracy to her advantage, knowing that the authority vested in her gave her the ability to override practically every chain of command at the moment. The backdrop of the city disappearing from the horizon, replaced only by great pillars of smoke and dust, seemed to be eerily fitting. "Get the ranking officer to get me a sitrep, now! And get me those mercenaries on the line!"

Beside her, the subordinate intelligence officer handling another radio to assist his superior winced; it had been far too long since anyone had screamed so close in his ear, and in so high-pitched a tone. He would've been far more impressed at Juno's ability to articulate her furious thoughts had he not been honestly terrified. Intelligence officers tended to be a lot more conscious about the chain of command and the punishments that came with failing their respective roles, or even pissing off the wrong people. Right now, Juno seemed to be one of the "wrong people", and it was in his best interests to placate her. "It's nothing we need to be worried about, ma'am," he tried to sound confident and professional as he removed the earpiece of the radio from the side of his head, addressing the Juno specifically. "No Hylian infiltrators that we know of; local forces say they're in conflict with zoran stragglers."

The incredulous glare the major sent him was enough to make him shiver when she redirected attention from her military phone to the other intelligence officer, interrupted only when the humvee made another turn and almost tossed them over each other with powerful force. "And could you give me a good reason why there would be zorans this far inland in Hyrule, fighting against Valentine forces?" Juno deadpanned. That incurred a stunned, thoughtful pause from her subordinates, but the major – entirely convinced she was surrounded by idiots and imbeciles – did not give them time to think upon that thought as she already began to reconfigure her military phone to commandeer all local forces, Valentine or otherwise. "Where there's smoke, there's a fire. Find and eliminate them."

* * *

**Exoria File #023  
Zorans**

Demands over resources in the age of industrialization placed a significant strain on the maintenance of human development in the thirteenth century, and tensions began to build between humanity and the other races, most significantly among them the gorons and the zorans, due to territorial skirmishes and resource rights. Following the Final Goron War from 1223 to 1224 a.s.r., leading to the eventual extinction of the gorons within the century, the zorans, occupying significant marine territories around the continent that humans had repeatedly violated over the decades, denounced human actions as genocide, declared themselves isolationist, and authorized deadly and lethal force to be used against further territorial incursions. Threatened with industrial and trade collapse due to the inaccessibility of vital maritime regions, the united forces of Hyrule, Gerudo, and Valent, known as the Provisional Human Army, fought a lengthy, decades-long military campaign against the zorans. In retaliation, the zorans launched a total of three Zoran Crusades on human territories utilizing indiscriminate warfare, but the last crusade was met with devastating failure and doomed the zoran war effort when Valentine Duchess Sieglinde of Rynwall crushed the Third Zoran Crusade at the Battle of Dendrite Falls in 1264 a.s.r., leading to the eventual surrender of the zorans in 1265 a.s.r. with the signing of the First Zoran Accord. The zorans were seen as low-class, third-rate citizens, barely tolerated by the three nations on the continent, and restricted in residence to out-of-the-way "natural reserves"; zoran slavery also became legal. The unequal terms of the treaty led to a great rise in zoran terrorism, and, as a concession, the Second Zoran Accord was signed in 1363 a.s.r., abolishing zoran slavery and emancipating any remaining slaves. The mid-fifteenth century saw an increased interest in zoran civil rights, largely attributed to the zoran civil rights activist Madonna; her assassination in 1468 a.s.r. by human supremacist groups and the subsequent Bloody Friday riots resulted in the hasty signing of the Third Zoran Accord, which guaranteed abridged legal rights for zorans. Despite this, discrimination towards zorans is still obvious, and the zorans themselves harbor great animosity towards humans in general, content in isolating themselves from humanity in their natural reserves; most humans live their entire lifetime seeing no more than ten zorans.

* * *

Author's Note: Before anything else, here's the basic update on my current position.

I'm currently in the middle of specialist training, which should end in just a week before I'm rotated to a desk job, which I indeed got. I've had decent computer access over the weekends and through the few free hours I'm afforded during specialist training to scrounge this chapter together, which is why I managed to finish this update despite still going through training. _Where_ I'm being rotated is still up in the air, which is important because it directly translates to how much work I get and how lax barracks regulations will be, although I'll also find that out in about a week. Therefore, while my computer schedule – and therefore my ability to update – is still questionable, so please continue to hope for the best, although it may be wise not to let your expectations rise _too_ much. Again, I apologize for having to play hell with your expectations, and I'll do my best to keep updating _Exoria_ at a reasonable rate.

The writing of the Jormungand arc is somewhat difficult due to the fact that, for better or for worse, all lines are now converging on Link. This means more and more characters are now being related to him somehow – as allies, enemies, or otherwise – and trying to get them enough screentime and involvement instead of merely having them be two-dimensional characters that just appear to serve their purpose can be difficult, especially when one realizes how long the Jormungand arc is getting to be. We still haven't seen Stranger C. and his massive kukri-wielding co-combatant in action, Jessica still hasn't kissed Link, Alexandria still hasn't caught up, MICO still hasn't launched its nefarious plot, Steven is still kind of out of the spotlight, and cuccos haven't damaged Jormungand. Oh, and that's not saying all of them above is relevant somehow; I may just be leading you on with false threads.

I'm horrible, I know.

The zorans are depicted very differently than they usually are from canon, I realize. This may anger quite a few people, to which I can only state that _Exoria_ takes place a very, very long time after the _Zelda_ games themselves, a timeframe in which biology, cultures, and politics change. As Exoria File #023 has shown, the zorans have no love to spare for humans, who have the kind of attitude colonial Americans had towards Native Americans, so the prejudice is there. I'm doing what I can to prevent them from being depicted as merely "savages", something that I actually find fairly offensive, but I will remark that time has done a number on their mentality and what people think of them, and zorans in general have genuinely become a lot more hawkish.

By no means am I an accurate estimator, but if I had to guess, the Jormungand arc will last another six or seven chapters, give or take a few. For those worried about arc fatigue (look at what TV Tropes has done to me), I can only guarantee that the Quetzalcoatl arc will be much, much shorter.

Next author's note will probably be me describing how green I am with jealousy at the skills/successes of other fanfiction writers, or toying with other project ideas. The psychologists told me that my ADHD was a misdiagnosis, but now I'm honestly not so sure...

Anyways. Onto reviews.

Jokeruto: _Good luck with basic training, if it's anything like the US Army be prepared to get yelled at a lot. I know I got smoked a few times for not having my blankets at the proper 45 degree angle. I love this incarnation of Link, he's badass. Unlike his previous incarnations, he's not as cut and dry as them, white and black. I like that, gives him some character that's missing in the games Alexandria's family sounds interesting, gotta wonder what kind of role they'll play in the future when she inevitably fails to stop Link from destroying Jormugand._

Mercifully, there was less yelling at me. I don't know if that's because I managed a passable job or because I got really lucky, but all this military training really just isn't for me. Ironic, given I write a multitude of military fiction, but I'm honestly a pacifist and an absolute slob at heart, so…

At the risk of rambling: An important thing about my attempting character development is to avoid the concepts of "great hero" and "evil villain". I am a moral relativist, and therefore am convinced that there is no such thing is a "great good" or a "great evil"; as William Shakespeare said, "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." Therefore, aside from obvious cases of sociopathy or other forms of neurological/psychological illness, I simply delegate my characters to a certain shade of gray. As such, Link is nothing close to clear-cut. He's young enough to believe in the ideals his country claims to stand for, but he's also ruthless enough to dirty his hands in pursuit of those ideals.

Alexandria is the oldest daughter of the grand duchess (I'd say "grand duke", but the father actually married into the family, so mentioning the mother seems more appropriate here), and I suspect - in one form or another, whether or not she actually wants it – she'll be afforded _some_ kind of political protection if everything goes to hell. And that's assuming that she survives long enough to actually fail in the first place.

Kaze1124: _I am only on Chapter 2, but I haven't enjoyed a story this much since I read The Hunger Games. This really put me in mind of Mission Impossible and Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, and it makes Link seem a lot more bad a**. Change some of the names and give it a new title, submit it to a publisher, and you have money coming in. Can't wait to finish, it is great. Thank you for ending my summer break with splendor._

I have considered publishing, but I really don't want to do it now, not until I've attained a level of writing that I'm more satisfied with. As far as I'm concerned, I'm still very much wet behind the ears, and until I don't feel that way, I'll write for practice and enjoyment, not for profit. But thank you for your compliments, and I hope I can fill your time after summer break with splendor as well.

Anon: _While I really enjoy your writing the infiltration is taking up a lot of time in this arc, I'm unsure if its a good idea to extend out the destruction of jormugand for another 5-6 chapters._

That is a very valid concern, but – as you've seen further up in the author's notes – I'm hoping to end the Jormungand arc in about six, maybe seven, chapters. I'm hoping not to drag this out for too long, yet still be cohesive enough to bring all these subplots to a successful conclusion, or at least a good pause.

Daxam S. Loken: _Oh-ho! Now this is a great fic. You've got a good blend of politcking sneakiness, well written combat scenes and good ol' fashioned character development. I'm looking forward to reading the sequences containing Jormungand and how Link is going to sink it. And correct me if I'm wrong, but is there a slight influence from Modern Warfare's "All Ghillied Up" here in chapter 21?_

_Anyway, it's been a great read, and good luck with your basic training._

In general, _Exoria_ is heavily influenced by the _Metal Gear Solid_ and _Modern Warfare_ games, which works well for me because I have a great preference for stealth-based black ops and sniper action over massive firefights, but am otherwise capable of writing conventional warfare in what I hope is a believable manner. In general, I think a few sections of the game _are_ influenced by "All Ghillied Up", as you suggested. There is a great focus on sneaking around and trying to remain off the radar of a very prominent military force on the continent, but I suspect things will not always remain this way through the rest of the story.

Thank you for your praise nonetheless, and I hope my "blend" continues to entertain.

Zeldafan: _Ah good luck with the military training!_

_Another great chapter, though it's a shame that Alexandria seems like she's headed for a fall considering the history of antagonists vs Link confrontations in the games. Needless to say the antagonists always lose. I like how Link took down the convoy, still a over the top moment you expect out of an action flick yet somewhat believable. Guess Valent doesn't have much experience with IEDs if they're still riding around in Humvee, when it comes to taking on IEDs or mines those things are damn near useless. I'll take my uncomfortable as hell and claustrophobia inducing MRAP any day of the week. Again, keep up the good work!_

Valent in general is not very experienced with IEDs. In fact, neither is Hyrule. Both sides have not had to deal with years of warfare with insurgents like Gerudo has, and their military conflicts have been very conventional in general. MRAPs are also something that has been developed within the last decade in real life, so I'm not entirely certain they'd be fielded in great amounts in the world of _Exoria_. Lastly, Welfare is actually fairly far from the main line of resistance, so it was considered "safe" territory…well, relatively safe, anyways; mines are not exactly the expected form of everyday business when you're simply restocking secondary supply depots.

Emminyan: _Hmmmmmmm, well ive finally caught up so its probably high time i review this, because you certainly deserve it~!_

_Tv tropes is always a good way to find a decent fic and this one is no exception. You my dear have a simply amazing writing style. the dedication you put into the quality of each chapter is also just astounding. im impressed, its certainly much better than me!_

_The only thing i would say is be careful with all your OC's. with characters from the fandom we already have an idea of their background and personality but with OC's you need to be able to give them a more in depth background and unique personality yourself to really make them compelling characters. However, you have already been doing that brilliantly yourself so i have no complaints._

_Love the idea, love the characters and love the plot. I cant wait to read what happens next. i hope the basic training thing goes well and we hear from you soon~!_

And yet another joins the ranks of readers guided here by TV Tropes. This has really been an unexpected source of advertisement; I really should thank whoever put the article up there in the first place.

I try to be as careful as possible regarding original characters. The actual truth is that I'm a lot more talented at writing original characters than I am at fan characters. For _Exoria_, this works debatably well because Nintendo has been frank in saying that they've always cared more about gameplay than story, and so I am afforded a great deal of narrative and characterization freedom with canon characters, largely due to the fact that the canon characters are not often given a very extensive personality. For narrative reasons relating to the plot of _Exoria_, there are few canon characters, largely because I'm trying to select ones who recur often enough; therefore, familiar faces include only Link, Zelda, Ganondorf, and Impa (and Epona) so far. By necessity, the rest of the cast will have to be original characters, but there are some readers and fans who react poorly to this, believing that I'm dragging the spotlight from the characters that "matter", and that I'm not writing fanfiction as much as I'm writing an original disguised as fanfiction for my self-gratification (which, if I am to be entirely fair and honest, is not necessarily true). I _am_ doing my best to keep all the characters distinct, but it's a fine line to toe.

But I'm glad you're loving _Exoria_, and I, too, hope you can hear from me soon, preferably with a chapter update.

Deep Space Cowgirl: _First of all, I'd like to give you my sympathy... getting shanghaied into the armed forces really sucks. I really hope you get stuck behind a desk as opposed to being sent somewhere to be shot at._

_Depressing stuff aside, wow, what a great story! I almost never read something and think to myself, "Gee, this would make a great video game!" but that's exactly how I felt while going through the action scenes. From the motorcycle escape to the destruction of Anasi, to the various infiltration sequences... I could almost picture myself sitting there with a controller struggling through the dungeons *as* Link, rather than simply reading about him doing it. Ironically enough, I felt even more this way after Durandara was added. I can tell by your comments that a lot of people find her annoying, but I found her oddly like a combination of Midna and Navi. (and wishing that in-game sidekicks were as useful as Durandara) It kind of made me wish that Nintendo would be ambitious enough to make a game like this. I don't think they'd take such a risk with one of their flagship games, but I think you've proven that it can be awesome if done right._

_I also really like the way the characters came out, especially Link and Zelda. I don't think I've ever read another story where the author chose to keep Link as a silent protagonist, but you made it work surprisingly well. I love how much he's able to get across with just a gesture or a tilt of his head, and the sequence towards the beginning where Zelda kept trying to get him to talk was quite amusing._

_Speaking of Zelda, I'm also a fan of the way she turned out. (And I have to admit, I'm more than a little curious about whether her supposedly dead half-brother was a blonde-haired, red-eyed boy named Shiek, but I doubt I'm alone in such speculation.) I'm looking forward to her reaction to Emi making use of Link in the manner that she did. It should be amusing enough to make up for what's looking like a rather long wait. (sigh)_

_Actually, if there's one thing I'd like to see more of in this story, it's some of the more traditional Zelda elements. Not that you haven't done a good job with the ones you've used so far! But so far there's been only a few characters and a handful of weapons from the original story adapted to Exoria. I'd love to see more! Guess I'll get my chance when we get to the Zoras, huh? And when we finally find out what makes those superweapons tic *coughTriforcecough*_

_Good luck, and I hope basic training goes well!_

First of all, thank you for your concern regarding the circumstances of my draft. Mercifully, I am being rotated to a desk job as opposed to being conscripted as a normal grunt. Which is great, because the only entity even remotely interested in going to war with this government here happens to be one of the permanent members of the United Nations Security Council. So no pressure.

Although I find my skills to be still quite inadequate, I'm very happy to hear that my writing style retains the power to be image-provoking, and that you are easily picturing what is happening even through the messy action sequences that I sometimes feel as if I'm lumbering through. For Durandara, I must confess that I was aiming for much more of a Cortana-esque impression, as influenced by _Halo_; many people find Cortana annoying as well, but I personally found her wise-cracking, witty dialogue to be an entertaining welcome when put alongside with the Master Chief, who remained silent throughout gameplay save cutscenes. To counter what could be interpreted as Durandara being _too_ talkative – a necessity given that Link doesn't talk for both stylistic and narrative reasons (there _is_ a reason why Link choose to talk as little as possible) – I've tried to make her as useful as possible while giving her realistic limitations to her abilities. As you can tell from the reviews, this has led to mixed results; some people believe she's still annoying, and others believe I've given Durandara too many powers. It's a fine line to toe.

As I've mentioned a few times before, for narrative reasons, I've been trying to invoke as many recurring elements of the original _Zelda_ games as possible, but – by necessity – this is limited to give _Exoria_ a fairly original flair. For the most part, the entirety of the plot has been decided before I even start writing _Exoria_ – I know precisely what our characters will go through and how _Exoria_ will end, even if I haven't filled in all the little details in between (there will be a hiatus in the halfway point of this fic, your obligatory crisis after Link manages to clear the first three dungeons) – but if I think I am up to the task of introducing more recurring elements in without hopelessly messing up the story, I will make the attempt.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Three

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

The familiar rattle of gunfire echoed through the sewers, the waves bouncing through the narrow confines making it near impossible for even Link's practiced ears to make out the number of guns being fired, denying him any idea of how the battle below ground was progressing. The sounds ceased eventually, indicating an end to the firefight, but that wasn't all he had to be worried about; for the most part, the buildings above had finished their toppling, and only scattered blocks of sufficiently large rubble pounded the streets above every now and then, providing only a bit of a shock and a sharp reminder that by no means was Link out of the clear yet.

Dust still clogged the air, choking at Link's lungs and throat, coating him in a sheet of gray that seemed to pervade his entire line of sight. The coloring of the zoran ahead seemed to be little different, although he did not seem to have as much problems breathing, perhaps due to a different respiratory mechanism that Link honestly had never looked up, that he honestly did not care about right now, not when he was heaving many kilograms of weapons and equipment around beneath a warzone with an untrustworthy ally and couldn't even properly inhale. Still, he followed, kept pace with the zoran who moved with startling alacrity for a combatant in the middle of a hot-zone with no clue whether the enemy was around the next corner or not.

The zoran ahead of him, however, had never made introductions, and merely made token, infrequent looks backward to ensure Link was still following. It was quite clear that the zoran was a begrudged escort, only being remotely concerned about the Joint Intelligence agent's welfare because it was necessary, not out of any feelings of decency. Twice Link coughed violently as the dust became too much for his tortured throat, both of those times incurring sharp, murderous glances from the zoran, irritated that he was making such sounds; he wasn't exactly cowed, but in the interests of trying to survive long enough to figure out what the aquatic race wanted with him, the Joint Intelligence barely managed to hold onto the remainder of his coughs afterwards.

He generally had a good sense of direction, but between the fog of dust and what felt like insufficient oxygen going into his body, Link couldn't help but feel a bit lost even as he navigated what remained of the sewer system, relying only on the zoran before him to guide the two of them left and right, eventually reaching what looked like a fairly small hub in the modern subterranean aqueducts. It was probably some kind of major chamber that permitted manual mechanical control over different possible pathways by which water could flow in the sewers, and was thusly crisscrossed with a number of pathways and stacked with a decent amount of crates with mechanical equipment. It would technically be classified as a dangerously close-range engagement, but a decent firefight between three or four fireteams could be started in here.

But what bothered Link the most was the fact that it was only _after_ he had entered the hub – not before – that he finally managed to make out silhouettes in the darkness. In hindsight, he honestly had little idea whether this was attributed to the dust, or if the shades had simply done a good job at hiding, or if he was just beginning to lose a sharp sense of conscious awareness. Either way, however, there were suddenly humanoid-but-not-human persons standing right before him, around him, all of them armed with a variety of aging military weapons and equipment. The agent could only imagine – and not with any amount of difficulty – how badly he would've fared had the zorans been intent on ambushing him instead of rendezvousing with his current escort, who stepped into a circle that suddenly went tight, leaving Link out of it.

There were just more than a dozen of them, and it struck Link rather pointedly as to how much they resembled Southern Gerudo guerilla fighters, in a way. It wasn't that he couldn't tell them apart instantly; zoran faces were humanoid enough for the agent to make out subtle differences as he would a human face. They were all dressed in nearly the same way – or, at least, nearly the same way insofar as Link could tell – with their tribal-like vests and necklaces and chains draped over old body armor, but it was the swagger, the belligerent confidence, the way they stood and moved and slung their equipment around their body with more intent to commit violence than discipline that allowed Link to make the correlation with the long-standing enemies of Garuda.

When he first heard the sound, Link had instantly dismissed the unfamiliar noise as the environmental falling apart around him, or perhaps the side effect of some bodily function of the current party. It took a moment for him, however, to completely register the fact that the zorans were, in fact, communicating with each other in some kind of dialect or language, guttural, sharp, clipped dialogue swiftly being exchanged by the amphibious race. It was even more alien than the tribal Gerudo dialects that Link couldn't understand but could otherwise pick out on a linguistic level. There was the hope that Durandara, at the very least, could provide a translation, but the artificial intelligence had bad news for him. "No, I don't have a translation suite for that," she spoke glumly, as if greatly annoyed by this development as well. "Humans have never really attempted to understand the zoran dialect in the past two centuries, and they've never been of any mind to share."

So they were left entirely out of the loop as what the zorans were talking about, which – for all Link knew – could be about how they were going charge headfirst into a Valentine base just to send a message. What unnerved him the most, however, was how feral each of the zorans looked…or, more specifically, how all of them looked at him as if the first thing they wanted to do was to tear a human apart.

It could be that the rumors of the zorans being warlike and aggressive were indeed true, but, just to remain in a healthily cautious mindset, Link decided that they certainly weren't very happy to see him.

The density of dust was thinner here, so Link took a moment to take a few deep breaths. They were still ragged, and each breath still felt like someone was trying to shove a dusty rag down his throat, but at least the pain shocked his mind, the oxygen vitalized his brain, keeping him awake and alert as he could possibly be at the moment. He returned his attention to the zorans just in time to see that they had detached themselves from a circle and transformed into a bit of a semi-circle, looking intently, almost curiously, and definitely with quite a bit of disdain, at Link. The agent subconsciously spared himself a look down at his own body, decided that the zorans were probably not going to be terribly impressed by what they saw. After all, Link knew what the zorans were seeing: A nineteen-year-old Joint Intelligence agent looking dogged, tired, and injured, wearing a Valentine special forces outfit so terribly coated with dust that he looked more like having survived a mining accident than having come out of a battlefield.

But there was a second look that Link caught from his tentative allies, a subtle glance that the zorans tried to hide and pretend didn't exist, one that the Hylian saw anyways. His gunsword was attracting a bit of reluctant but curious attention, and Link knew why. After all, it was the gunsword – wielded by the hands of Valentine Duchess Sieglinde of Rynwall and her officer corps – that accomplished the miraculous two and a half centuries ago, that allowed a small, underprivileged Valentine army singlehandedly demolish the great zoran army of the Third Zoran Crusade at the Battle of Dendrite Falls. Link recognized that look. It was one of awe, of respect…maybe even of fear. The zorans had not forgotten their defeat and lesson even after all this time.

Then, again, there was also anger, disgust, and indignation in those murderous looks. Apparently, Link decided, there were many other things the zorans didn't forget either.

"Follow." The command had been given so casually, so out-of-the-blue that Link didn't respond to it at first, didn't even realize that it was being spoken in Interlingua at him. It was only after the zorans departed from their semi-circle, kicking up equipment from the ground into their hands and preparing to move out, that the agent realized it was time to move out. If given the choice, he wouldn't have minded just another minute to catch his breath.

Then, from the corner of his vision, he spotted the silhouettes of several recently deceased bodies – both human and zoran – with what vaguely resembled gunshot wounds near one of the hub entrances. Where the earlier sounds of gunfire had originated became fairly clear, and Link decided maybe it was best they move on after all.

The improvised squad swiftly traversed the ruins of the sewers, moving much quicker than Link was comfortable with under the circumstances. While they certainly weren't moving carelessly, the zorans seemed to prioritize speed more than stealth or alarm, and while they certainly covered much ground, Link was also worried that they could easily be ambushed by enemies with enough subtlety. Part of it, of course, was also the fact that the agent – tired and sore and trying to catch his breath – could barely keep up, but after realizing the zorans showed no intention of slowing down even the slightest bit when he leaned against something to deeply inhale, he simply chose to endure and preserve and move on.

Their path through the sewers eventually ended with a door that led into a rather large metropolitan tunnel network, a significant boulevard that crossed under the heart of downtown in an effort to minimize traffic jams for those that actually needed to commute to the greatest commercial areas of Astric. Remnants of crates, ammo dumps, and vehicle wrecks – both military and civilian – proved that, at one point, this place was some kind of military depot, a defensive point, perhaps a small forward operating base meant to provide some form of protection against all the long-range strategic weapons. That there were few bodies and little blood here indicated that the actual fighting probably never reached the FOB, and that the entire area had been evacuated once Astric had been deemed a lost cause. It therefore caused little discomfort for the zorans to simply move right through the mess of wrecks and junk, not that Link imagined piles of mutilated, scorched, or rotting human bodies would've bothered the zorans that much, if at all.

But something about the entire thing felt off, and Link made that clear as he suddenly stepped forward, reached out, and grabbed the lead zoran scout by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. The aquatic humanoid turned around, confusion transforming into malicious anger as he settled his eyes upon the human, hissed in accented Interlingua in a copper-like voice, "What?"

"Problem," another zoran – this one looking older and somehow having the temperament and aura of a squad leader – answered for the Hylian agent, who exchanged neutral but telling glances with him. Apparently, experience allowed _him_ to understand. "It's _too_ quiet."

The group of zoran paused at these words, realizing this made a good amount of sense. If Valentine forces were still actively looking for the zorans – or even just reacting to the fact that skyscrapers had just collapsed on their positions – one would've expected more noises in the nearby areas, a combination of shouts of Valentine soldiers and roars of vehicle engines. Instead, it sounded almost dead silent, as if the entire city had been evacuated of all other personnel.

The shared realization amongst the group: Trap ahead.

Not that they had a lot of choices about the entire thing. The longer they stayed, the more likely the enemy could coordinate a better cordon and a hunt-and-kill effort with superior numbers. Link therefore agreed with the older zoran's orders as he simply muttered "move", and the zorans quickly moved down in formation, swiftly jumping from cover to cover, alert and ready.

Apparently, the solution was simply to spring the trap.

Which was precisely what happened a scant two minutes later, as the lead zoran trying to move between cover was suddenly cut down from a burst of fire, and then, from all around to the fore, gunfire was erupting from everywhere, forcing everyone to duck to escape the hail of bullets that was suddenly being launched towards them by Valentine hardware. Link, ducking behind the wreckage of a Hylian APC, could identify by report alone several machine guns – probably hand-carried – providing the majority of cover fire for most of the others carrying assault rifles. This cacophony was swiftly enhanced by the blasts of zoran weapons firing back. Mercifully, there was no sign of active Valentine vehicles anywhere, which, given the conditions of the roads in Astric following the three-day bombardment the city suffered, was not surprising at all. Valentine forces were probably hindered from bringing in heavier vehicle-mounted firepower with the streets torn asunder in the city center, as opposed to any overconfidence that they could take on these zorans without any support.

This was the kind of engagement where Link was at a complete disadvantage in. His gunsword worked well for close-range engagements where handguns and blades worked best; he could even do mid-range fairly well when infiltrating. But in full-out combat, where squads on both sides were aware of each other's existence and firing automatic assault weapons meant for engagements generally fought at one hundred meters or greater, Link's gunsword had no advantage to speak of, and his other weapons – such as the sniper rifle – were greatly situational, none of which was adequate for a firefight. With some regret, Link wondered if it would've been a better idea to ask Vincent for an assault rifle before, but he knew the older JI agent needed that if Vincent wanted any chance of survival against Valentine forces, and professional expedience had convinced Link at the time that if an infiltrator ever walked into a situation where an unsuppressed assault rifle was necessary, then he was probably going to be dead. This meant he could do little to support the outnumbered and undertrained zorans, who continued to leap dangerously between cover while returning fire.

As Link watched the scene unfold across his eyes, though, the agent suddenly realized that he might need to add something to that last statement about the zorans: They were leaping _forward_. Closer to the enemies, right into their killzone.

It took a bit for Link to recover from a suddenly feeling of incredulity, never mind make sense out of what was happening, but after a quick moment of thinking, he finally had an inkling as to what the zorans were trying to accomplish. It was a haphazard strategy; while it went against most conventions Link knew about squad-based firefights, it had the potential to work well with the zorans in this particular scenario. On one hand, this reduced the effectiveness of machine guns to provide covering fire, not only because of range but also because of worry that the changing of firing angles could result in friendly fire. On the other hand, if any of the zorans could utilize close-combat to discharge lethal shocks from their fins, then it provided a significant advantage Valentine forces did not have. This, and the fact that the zorans were using older assault rifles that didn't have the same kind of accuracy the newer rifles Valentine soldiers carried did. Decreasing the distance between the fighting forces could also negate – if only by a bit – this disadvantage.

As far as strategies went, this wasn't bad at all…except maybe the fact that they knowingly walked into this trap to begin with.

Determined to at least try to support his current allies, Link, too, moved from cover to cover, if only in a more methodic manner, trying to quickly assess the battlefield as he did so. Theirs was still a fighting force just a bit over a dozen strong, and – judging from both the sounds of gunfire and the sporadic flashes of green fatigues the agent could spot between cover in the distance – probably somewhere closer to two dozen on their side. Link was also convinced that, given this _was_ a trap, more Valentine squads had probably heard the sounds of gunfire, having formed the other end of the tunnel box trap, and were probably on their way to sandwich them from behind. Being flanked by superior numbers was a sure way to get killed, so the zorans needed to break through Valentine lines as quickly as possible.

Still, to Link's surprise, the zorans fared better than he would've expected. He spotted another two zoran casualties as bullets tore their flesh apart and their forms hit the ground unmoving, but they actually managed to cover decent ground with their speed, moving between crates and vehicles fast enough to avoid being tracked by the guns, slipping in and out of overlapping fields of fire. This provided Valentine forces with no small amount of frustration as what started as professional bursts of fire devolved into what almost became fully automatic fire, a willingness to expend much ammunition just to hit one of the – Link could just barely hear a Valentine insult being hurled across the tunnel – "slimy bastards". Their formation was widening, breaking, trying to improvise against the new discrepancies in distance and firing angles. A good response on part of the Valentine ambushers, but it was still inadequate in addressing the potential weaknesses the zorans aimed to exploit in the first place. The angles widened, fields of fire began to include allied targets, and the entire enthusiasm Valentine soldiers seemed to have displayed earlier faded in fear of friendly fire, which permitted an even hastier zoran advance that brought the range between the combatants to a minimal range. What had started as a potentially organized firefight was devolving into some kind of unholy mess.

Link conceded that this wasn't bad as far as strategies go, but given the realities of combat, they were probably going to see a lot of zoran casualties today.

But, before worrying about the zorans, the agent needed to worry about himself and the fact that the shortening of distances left him in a position where he was potentially surrounded by enemies at extremely close range. He was still trying to gauge where everyone was on the battlefield when, from both sides, having previously been blocked from his field of vision by collections of crates, wreckages, and debris, two Valentine soldiers – who had similarly been unaware of his existence – suddenly appeared, flanking his left and right at dangerously proximity.

It was fortunate that the enemy soldier who approached from the left was wielding a machine gun, deliberately sacrificing accuracy by firing from the hip for the purposes of providing covering fire for his comrades while retreating to cover; better yet, he was walking backwards, and therefore completely unaware that, a mere two meters behind him, he was about to back into a hostile Hylian gunsword-wielding infiltrator. The same, however, could not be said about the Valentine infantryman on the right, who took only a split-second to recover from the surprise of realizing there was an enemy _this_ close – either he wasn't fooled by the special forces fatigues, or the dust on the uniform was so thick that it masked out the familiar Valentine green – before charging at Link, correctly judging that using his combat knife would be faster than trying to use an assault rifle at practically point-blank or drawing his pistol sidearm. The one with his back turned could wait; Link focused his hostilities on the soldier trying to draw his blade.

Smaller and lighter, the combat knife unsurprisingly came up first, its point trying to carve through Link's throat, something that would've been a lot more difficult to avoid had the agent not expected it, and covered the difference with the fact that the gunsword was already in his hand as opposed to having been in its holster as the knife had been. The agent could barely see the tip of the blade pass just centimeters in front of his throat from the right as he barely dodged the attack with a swift step back, and expertly used his free right arm to push the attacker towards his still-unaware comrade, forcibly delaying Link's own attack. A foot was stuck out, and the infiltrator watched with some satisfaction as his attacker was forcefully tripped into the back of his comrade; the attacker barely managed to regain balance by supporting his own stumbling weight against that of his partner's back, but the same couldn't be said about the second man, who, surprised, toppled forwards, his arms trying to reach out towards the ground to catch his fall. With a respectable distance between himself and the first infantryman, Link utilized the advantage provided by the greater reach of his gunsword and – before his foe could recover – swiftly brought the blade through the man's gut even as he began to shift his gunsword to handgun mode. The physical shock alone did more to kill any potential counterattack than the sudden loss of blood and severing of internal organs did.

As for the second infantryman, who was on the ground but trying to turn around, scramble away, and recover, Link calmly raised his gunsword in handgun mode and – with the transformation of his weapon complete – pulled the trigger twice, implanting two slugs into the man's head. It snapped back violently and the body slumped back down on the asphalt.

The crisscrossing of the occasional tracer round wove messy, random lines through the air and gave a fairly good impression of how chaotic a former textbook firefight had become as allied formations mixed in with the enemy's. Another zoran caught two bullets to the chest, but not before he managed to place both of the fins on his arms against a foe that was just within reach and just a bit slow to bring up a smaller weapon for a counterattack at close-range. There was little spectacle; no sparks, no smoke, nothing to indicate that a potentially-lethal dose of electricity had just run through the woman's body than a sudden jolt and jerk that snapped her body taut before she dropped to the ground. Another Valentine soldier got riddled with bullets as two zorans flanked her at close-range and fired off their assault rifles at full automatic.

It was a pretty shoddy comparison, but Link couldn't help but think of the imagery generally associated with zombie movies, where the undead overran military positions by sheer force of tenacity.

And if the zorans were the zombies in the scene and the Valentine soldiers the hapless army about to fail in keeping back the tide, then the burst of gunfire from a distant KS-74 from behind the Valentine formation heralded the arrival of the hero, even as rounds tore through the neck of a zoran who had just slipped past a vehicle on his way to a crate up ahead, the bullets managing to squeeze through the tiny gap in between both obstacles to inflict a kill on the zorans, whittling down their numbers even more.

Sparing a glance just beyond his own cover from behind a stack of crates, Link ground his teeth together when his gaze settled upon the source of the shooter, who was already moving swiftly into the battle. He recognized that man from just half an hour ago: Stranger C. It was apparently too much to have hoped that the Southern Gerudo mercenary would have already been out of Astric and therefore out of the firefight. That they were clearly coordinating with Valentine assets meant that their handler – the Valentine intelligence major – had the ability to commandeer military assets on at least a platoon-level. The Hylian agent expected that authority to go much higher, though.

At this point, it was clear that Link was going to need a better firefight weapon, at least for the next few minutes, so it took him just a moment to kick up a spare Valentine assault rifle from his two kills, swiftly collecting the magazines and ammunition from the dead infantrymen before shoving them into pockets and pouches; judging by the way the battle was going, he was likely going to need as much ammunition as he needed, despite his usual conservativeness where the expending of bullets was concerned. It had been a while since he had last used an assault rifle given the nature of his work, but Link was fairly confident that training would kick the feel of the weapon right back in. Shouldering the weapon instinctively, he allowed old habits to come back first, fighting more by feeling and intuition than by rational though. Aiming at Valentine positions in general but Stranger C. specifically, bursts of accurate, controlled fire blazed from his barrel with remarkably loud bangs characteristic of all firearms, like large firecrackers going off so close that it threatened to deafen anyone standing too close.

It was, admittedly, a silly admission, but – having used silenced weapons for so long as a Joint Intelligence field officer – Link found himself rather unaccustomed to an unsuppressed weapon going off so close to his head. The ringing in his ears was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a while.

But while Link managed to hit at least one Valentine soldier with his shots – a clip across the shoulder, it looked like, nothing lethal – Stranger C. eluded his attacks, moving methodically with such precision that, even when transitioning from debris, he left little – if anything – vulnerable to attack. And when he did, he fired back with short, controlled bursts of his rifle as well, timing his attacks with times where Link was either switching magazines or close to that point, forcing the agent to duck back behind something solid. His movements were not aggressively fast like the zorans; they were careful and calculated, but not at the expense of a decent amount of speed.

The first adjective that came to Link's mind as he thought of Stranger C.'s combat style was "bland". There was absolutely nothing special about the way he fought, the way he sought cover, the way he fired back and made offenses. That was probably what was most troubling to the Joint Intelligence agent, because "bland" was probably one of the most dangerous ways one could fight: It meant there were no significant tells, no good signs of what was to happen next, no quirks to identify, no major weaknesses to exploit. All of that had been traded for an unremarkable but professional combat style in the best traditions of military training.

_No_, Link told himself, trying to watch Stranger C. between the intervals of gunfire that threatened to drill messy holes into his head, realizing that the Southern Gerudo mercenary's methodology in combat was not in line with any military doctrine the agent was familiar with. _This isn't the result of military training. He's just _very_ experienced with war_.

Which was as far as he got in regards to trying to perform on-site reconnaissance, because sharp movement in the peripheral of his vision forced him to take a step back into cover, a step that almost caused him to trip due to his abrupt retreat…a step that allowed him to remain unharmed as what suddenly looked very much like a giant bladed boomerang tore a small chunk off the crate he had been hiding behind, slicing through the spot he _would_ have been standing in had he not accidentally overstepped. The blade – Link was barely able to identify the weapon as an oversized kukri – shot right past and immediately continued on his trajectory. The agent was momentarily too stunned to fire back at the weapon's source, not that it would've done him any good; the raven-haired girl who had threw the blade at him had disappeared back almost immediately into cover, leaving Link with only a glimpse of what almost looked like an afterimage almost thirty meters away.

But that lasted for only a moment. The girl darted out from cover, moving for Link's right flank, and the agent was ready this time, aiming for her and pulling the trigger of his gunsword. The distance was slightly at the edge of a range for what he usually counted as reliable shots for a moving target, but it would keep the girl suppressed at the very least. But even that proved to be a fairly difficult task as the infiltrator watched the girl vault over a stack of crates by jumping and using her arm to throw her weight forward – completing what her legs alone couldn't have accomplished – while presenting the smallest target area possible by going into what almost seemed to be a sliding motion in midair, continued that motion as she hit the ground and completed the slide under an intact civilian sedan that became cover instead of an obstacle, slipped out from the other side and grabbed onto the edge of the car to redirect her momentum up then back so she could flip onto her feet, then ducked back behind another vehicle for cover, now having advanced further down Link's right flank…just as, from the left flank, bullets impacted against _his_ cover – Stranger C. was firing at him once more with an increasing degree of accuracy – and he was forced to take another step back from his already compromised shield.

He was familiar with the girl's movements, identifying it as free-running, a highly agile discipline of movement that incorporated the entire body into remarkably basic but rapid chains of motion that controlled inertia and permitted the passing through otherwise imposing obstacles such as walls and falls. Link had seen it done as a hobby before by enthusiastic teenagers and as a method of escape by fleeing terrorists, but this was the first time he had seen anyone incorporate it into an actual combat style.

Which, again, was about as far as he got down that particular line of thought, because – as he ducked back into cover and turned around to load a fresh clip of bullets into his gunsword – he found himself looking incredulously at a sight no greater than ten meters away from him: The boomerang-kukri that the girl had thrown, the one that had took a chunk out of his previous cover and spun and shot right past him…was coming _back_. Like an _actual_, _real_ boomerang.

Somewhere in the back of his head, Link was wondering rather frustratingly to himself if this was even physically possible for what looked like a large kukri made out of some kind of artificial metallic allotrope. Somewhere at the very front of his head, though, Link was realizing rather frantically that a large, metallic, bladed, and very much dangerous boomerang-kukri was now flying back towards him at alarmingly high speeds.

So Link did what any other sane man would do: He ducked.

It was barely enough. The kukri was spinning at a near-diagonal angle, and when it shot past Link, its blade grazed against the shoulder, cutting first through fatigues then into the skin. The shock alone did more to knock Link to onto the ground on his rear than the actual impact as the metal flashed right before his eyes before passing over, leaving him with only the realization that, had he only been a split-second lower, the kukri probably would've actually removed something. With a stunned, almost dazed look, the Hylian agent looked back just in time to see the kukri curve right back to where the girl was. Not where the girl had been standing _before_, but where the girl was standing _now_, behind the car All she needed to do was step out, reach out, and grab so quickly at the handle of the spinning kukri that Link had no idea how her arm was not removed by the blade that spun as a blur, before ducking back into cover.

The girl was not only using the kukri was a deadly returning weapon. She also knew _where_ the boomerang-kukri would fly, _where_ it would return, and _where_ to grab it when it did. It wasn't just a matter of skill; she had excellent battlefield awareness.

Unlike Stranger C., there was little question in regards to this girl's combat style. The problem, Link realized very quickly as he tried to regain his balance and orientate himself back into the battle, was that he had no idea how to identify it. In general, his training prepared him to have to deal with two different broad categories of combat: Amateurish and professional. Amateurish styles could be defeated through competent actions and superior training, while professional styles needed quick thinking and good tactics to counter. Both styles had almost formula-like solutions by which to launch counterattacks.

With this girl, however, Link realized that there was, perhaps, a _third_ broad category he had never been prepared for: The ridiculous. This was so far removed from the conventions of military combat, so far removed from common sense, that the mind could barely register what was happening as an alien occurrence – or an occurrence at all – much less come up with decent counterstrategies.

Then, again, perhaps it wasn't as horrible as it sounded. After all, in regards to modern military conventions, Link, too, was possibly eligible for the ridiculous category as well. Gunswords had been and still were considered as unwieldy, impractical weapons, yet he and special forces had always used them to devastating effect…the latter of which he had managed to survive an armed engagement with. And as for the girl's ability to discern where to best throw her boomerang, reading almost a step ahead as to where her enemy would be when the kukri began its return trip and where she needed to be to intercept that returning weapon? It was probably an instinctive thing, the same way training had ingrained Link with the ability to switch between optimal usage of his gunsword's handgun and longsword modes without even thinking about it. It wasn't as bad as it seemed; fight back was entirely possible.

But, first, Link needed to get back up.

Barely managing to find his way back onto his feet, the agent winced as he pushed himself off the ground, the pain in his shoulder lancing all the way down his arm. He considered himself lucky that the graze had gone past his right shoulder as opposed to his left; left-handed, Link's combat effectiveness probably would've gone down by a measure of half had the injury affected his ability to aim or swing his sword. Even with that, though, it probably made a two-handed grip for the gunsword's longsword mode a labored task. Given the situation, though, it suited Link just fine; he knew the greatest concern wasn't how well he was going to fight, but how fast they were all going to get out of here.

The sounds of gunfire were becoming more sporadic and less rapid, a sure sign that there were fewer combatants around. Unfortunately for Link, most of the casualties seemed zoran. Enemy lines of fire were tightening, evident as a zoran passing right by Link and attempting to advance down the enemy's left flank was cut down from a burst of fire, the rounds' entrance pattern against zoran flesh looking too familiar to those of a KS-74 for Link to believe they were from anyone other than Stranger C. In an even more bizarre spectacle, a familiar sight of a flying non-reflective kukri sliced through the air, moving in a different pattern than how it flew when the female mercenary had targeted Link; instead of coming back in a vertical pattern, the blade flew in a horizontal, circular arc that cut deep gashes through the chests of two zorans who thought they were sufficiently safe from attacks by remaining behind the vehicle wreckages and out of enemy line of fire, but were blindsided by a kukri that otherwise came around.

The zorans were giving their all and doing a rather good job at it, but they were still on the wrong end of an intense firefight, and strategy, in this case, was simply _just_ not enough to mitigate the fact that they were up against an enemy of superior numbers and training. Link's temporary allies now numbered only to roughly half a dozen, less than half their original number.

Spotting and recognizing the previous older zoran, the one who had instinctively understood Link's warning of a possible ambush, the agent slid over, maintaining the smallest possible target area for his enemy while attempting to get through open ground to reach his ally. Both of them side-by-side against a crate to protect themselves from incoming fire, they quickly exchanged looks, Link firing a stern glance at the zoran while giving a quick shake of his head, an indicator that this wasn't working, and they needed to re-strategize…or, at the very least, get the hell out of here.

The zoran seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "Escape route is north on Highway B-4," he hissed; with the almost metallic voice, however, the hiss sounded anything but, resembling instead like some alien, terrifying screech at low volume. "Valentine APC marked with a cross with tape on the rear. You get there first, you leave."

So, dislike for him aside, Link was apparently still the zorans' primary objective. So much, in fact, that they were willing to sacrifice their chances of getting out of Astric with a hijacked Valentine APC by letting Link go first if the rest of the zoran team had not yet made it to the rendezvous point. At this point, though, it seemed as if they were about to pursue an every-man-for-himself strategy to break through.

Still, Link allowed himself to pat the zoran on the shoulder as a sign of encouragement before sprinting to the left in an attempt to break through. He didn't need to look back to see the zoran stare back at him with the most bewildered of expressions.

As he sprinted from crate to crate, wreckage to wreckage, Link made his way to the leftmost side of the tunnel, knowing that it was better to deal with only one side as opposed to being flanked. He kept low; he had seen enough of Stranger C.'s shooting at zorans to know that the man was experienced enough with the assault rifle to manage to squeeze off good shots between what limited opportunities Link presented him when making leaps between protection. Still, he didn't need to see the tracers that occasionally divided the air to know that many of the bullets were whizzing by, coming way too close for comfort. He continued to fire his assault rifle in controlled bursts; he needed to suppress incoming enemy fire, but firing off too much was just a sure way of attracting the wrong kind of attention.

Another round glanced off the right shoulder strap of Link's light body armor, the vest barely able to deflect the scraping blow that still struck his shoulder like a sledgehammer, aggravating the cut wound already inflicted there by the Southern Gerudo girl-mercenary's boomerang. Reflexively, he mentally dulled the pain, dropped on a knee, and fired back in the direction of the shooter; the first shot missed, but the second and third shots connected with a Valentine infantrywoman. It knocked her off her feet and onto her back, but she writhed and rolled around on the floor a bit; _her_ body armor had managed to turn both lethal shots into merely highly painful ones. Of course, there was no way Link could confirm that observation, because he instantly slid past a solid, cracked block of concrete, moving forward as he did, just as bullets whizzed over his head and threatened to drill holes into it.

That still left one problem, however. With the zorans also engaging both Valentine forces and the Southern Gerudo mercenaries, bullets were flying everywhere, with attacks being directed at all combatants, sparing Link the re-experience of having to be the center and target of multiple fields of fire, as was his experience with special forces in an abandoned subterranean utilities hub near Welfare. Ultimately, however, a disproportionate amount of attacks was still being launched _his_ way, more than was plausible to simply be dismissed as merely a fluke, especially by the Southern Gerudo mercenaries, which could only mean one thing: They were targeting Link _specifically_. The zorans were simply convenient, "along-the-way" targets for a mission that was meant to eliminate _him_.

If it wasn't for the fact that he was coming uncomfortably close with imminent death, Link would've almost felt honored in a predatory, twisted, warlike way for being the focus of so much Valentine military attention.

"Maintenance corridor thirty meters ahead to the left!" The sound of Durandara hissing into Link's ear was, in his opinion, a godsend, because if anyone could adequately keep watch over the entire battlefield while being shot at, it was the AI, who was already trying to ensure their escape strategy remained viable. "Could be rigged with traps, so watch out, but anywhere is better than here!"

The Hylian agent couldn't have agreed more, trying to make the thirty-meter dash while ensuring his haste to get to the exit didn't also render him careless and get him killed. He ensured that he kept close to the wall, but not so close so that a launched grenade or rocket or other explosive that slammed against concrete could inflict splash damage upon him; it also meant having to only defend from two directions as opposed to three, at least as long as the Valentine reinforcements on the other side of the tunnel didn't catch up. Bullets ricocheted all around him, most of them absorbed by the obstacles Link expertly wove through, firing sparsely back at his attackers to keep them pinned down, his keen mind keeping track of all combatants he could see and the fields of fire they would have access to. His talents had been polished by training afforded to him by JI, but it was here on the battlefield – pressured by death itself – that his full potential was unlocked, a sense of higher awareness and perceptiveness overpowering – even if temporarily – even the sense of dizziness and pain his wounds and suffering inflicted upon him. An adrenaline rush, perhaps, but Link welcomed the surge of focus nonetheless.

At five meters away from his escape route, the agent managed to catch a glimpse between the crates, his eyes locking onto the familiar lithe, small form of the young female mercenary. Only a bit of her body was exposed to attacks, but enough for Link to make out that her body was moving into a sharp turn from behind cover, making a curving throw that would allow her kukri to slide out from her cover before coming towards him from the right flank. Seeing the attack in advance gave Link the opportunity to slide right behind a slab of concrete that had apparently once been part of the ceiling – more correctly, part of the street above – before falling down onto the ground, setting aside the Valentine assault rifle and placing it onto the ground, switching his gunsword to longsword mode just in case the weapon was going to be a blindsiding attack that the zorans suffered from as opposed to the vertically-returning attack Link had first been targeted with.

Watching the boomerang-kukri fly towards him from where he peeked behind his cover, Link saw that the attack was the latter, a largely linear attack meant to reach the target as swiftly as possible, nothing particularly fancy. As a natural reflex, he instinctively ducked down behind the concrete just as the kukri approached. But no matter how hard or sharp a kukri was, even imagining it could cleave through the block was ridiculous. The weapon spun with just enough force to embed the blade end of the boomerang into the bed of concrete, but that was as far it got, the blade inserting itself just two or three centimeters into the surface and remaining stuck there just in front of Link, handle-up, almost reminding him of the proverbial sword in the stone. Either way, the development deprived the female mercenary of her weapon; if he had to guess, Link supposed she had a sidearm of some sort as a backup, or perhaps even throwing knives, but – for the time being – it seemed as if he didn't have to worry much about boomerang-kukris blindsiding him.

Which was the initial and logical assumption, except there was a flash shooting up from just being the concrete, a blur of motion as the girl flipped up into the air and right over the block, having managed to traverse the distance from where she had thrown her weapon to where it had embedded itself into the slab of concrete in an instant. Her hands settled themselves on the handle of her weapon, and the mercenary allowed the rest of her momentum to pull the sword out of the stone, completing her flip as she brought the large kukri down on Link.

The throw of the boomerang-kukri was a decoy, a way for her weapon to get to a prime offensive position while forcing Link on the defensive. The real attack was a melee slash taking advantage of his wounded shoulder.

This only seemed to reaffirm the agent's steadfast belief that the entire battle here was now an exercise in the ridiculous.

Link considered it a matter of luck that he had decided to shift his gunsword to longsword mode, something that had occurred largely because he had expected the possibility of deflecting a blindsiding attack, not because he had expected to deflect an actual slash at close range. Had his weapon remained in handgun mode, the agent doubted he could've switched just in time to block the melee slash, nothing getting in the way of a blade to the chest or other grievously harmful spots. But taking advantage of happenstance, Link swiftly angled his sword outwards in a left-handed grip, knowing that – with his right shoulder injured and with only one arm capable of putting up a real defense – he needed as much space between himself and the blades as possible. As it turned out, however, the problem wasn't so much as the opponent's power as much as it was the shape of her blade; the mercenary's kukri was shaped as a curve, and when the blade of Link's gunsword slid across it, it curved, sending what almost felt like a twisting feeling down his sole supporting arm, forcing him to readjust his position and support his own defense by bending on a knee, pressing it against the street itself. But still it wasn't enough; the girl, Link realized, was not physically prodigious where strength was concerned, but it didn't change the fact that he could only use one arm against the mercenary's two, and the fact that she took advantage of her upward position to utilize gravity to her advantage, pressing her weight alongside the blade against her foe.

Trying to break the stalemate, Link rolled away, attempting to redirect his enemy's blade while increasing the distance between himself and the mercenary, and not a moment too soon; almost expectedly, bullets tore through the space where he had been just before, and Link caught a glimpse of Stranger C., looking mildly surprised that someone managed to evade what was probably a rehearsed attack pattern, the girl immobilizing a single enemy while the older mercenary gave the killing shots. But as Link managed to regain his feet, he found the girl simply closing the distance in an instant, giving the Hylian agent no chance for reprieve. It looked as if she was very much reliant on the kukri, fighting with only that weapon, a crippling overspecialization compensated by the fact that it _was_ an overspecialization; he considered himself a rather good swordsman with a gunsword, but Link was hit with the realization that he'd probably lose if he tried to match the girl blow-for-blow with blades, especially in his condition.

So when the next slash of the kukri came, instead of simply deflecting it, Link chose to dive right under the blade just as his own blade folded and retracted unto itself, his gunsword once again a projectile weapon in the instant that the girl fired off a stunned look at her opponent's daring. The mercenary overshot Link, their respective momentum carrying each other further apart, giving the lone Hylian the opening he needed to increase the distance by jumping backwards and up onto the concrete platform that led towards the side exit of the tunnel and towards the maintenance corridors. Not enough of an opening, however, to land any indecisive shots in the enemy; the gunsword spat and snapped twice with two silenced rounds escaping its barrel, but both were nimbly dodged by the mercenary as she simply spun aside, moving behind something solid to shield herself while allowing the bursts of fire from Stranger C. to harass Link and pick up the slack.

That worked as well; Link only wanted to get away.

Slipping away past the door into the confines of the maintenance corridor, the agent broke all visual contact with the tunnel's combatants, and bullets pinged off walls, letting off the occasional ricochet that, thankfully, did not hit him, the closest round grazing a flap of his green Valentine fatigues around the waist, snapping just a bit of fabric back but otherwise leaving the flesh unharmed. No traps that he could see, something that Durandara immediately confirmed as she shouted, "I don't see anything in our way, let's move!" Link crouched and stayed low as he retreated further down his escape route, taking the opportunity to utilize some of the spare equipment he had procured through the short war. Within seconds, a plastic explosive was secured against a corner of the hall where floor met wall, ready to be triggered by remote detonation. With any luck, it would be enough to discourage pursuit, cave in the corridor to actually _prevent_ pursuit, and – if he was _really_ lucky – form a trap that could kill off any pursuers, perhaps even the doggedly determined Southern Gerudo mercenaries.

And, for just a moment, it seemed that even such a wish would come true. Dashing through the entrance and attempting to seek cover amongst the grooves of walls and pipes – the movement calculated to prevent her from catching bullets from Link – the female mercenary jumped through, not even yet attacking; a distance of at least twenty meters separated the two combatants, and the corridor was far too narrow for her to throw her kukri properly. But that suited Link just fine, the point punctuated as he began to sprint in the exact opposite direction and keyed the button that sent a radio signal to the detonator that would send a miniature blast to the plastic explosive and turn it into a sufficiently powerful explosion.

Just before the hallway before him disappeared into a ball of instantly-expanding volatile gas, Link _thought_ he saw the male Southern Gerudo mercenary suddenly appear to press the female one down to the ground and behind just enough concrete to shield them from the blast.

Then the explosive detonated, sending a shockwave almost powerful enough to throw Link off his feet had he not managed to get the yield and amount of the explosive substance just right, enough to cause enough damage to the area but not enough to be so powerful as to kill him. In hindsight, such a blast _could_ have detonated with enough force to bring the entire tunnel down on them, which – given how badly Astric suffered from its previous battle – was not entirely an unlikelihood. Ultimately, however, it didn't happen, a fact Link was grateful for as a cloud of dust swiftly soared past him, providing him some form of cover even as he made his dash across the maintenance corridor and to a temporary semblance of safety. That didn't stop him from laying a few landmines on proximity detonation just in case, though.

But the relief was fleeting, and Link was brought back to a harsh reality as the adrenaline rush began to wear off, as his focus no longer outstripped all the warning signs his body was giving him, punctuated as he reached the end of the hallway and nearly stumbled onto his knees, entering a coughing fit so violent that drops of unpleasant-looking liquid sprayed against the ground from his mouth. It occurred to him just how poorly he was doing, how badly the mission had gone now that he had lost the advantage of stealth and anonymity. There was a gash across his right shoulder, and it was bleeding profusely; although the cut was only skin-deep, the wound had been severely aggravated by a bullet that had mercifully been deflected by his bulletproof vest but ultimately still dealt a significant amount of physical trauma on a part of his body that had already been hurt. His heart and lungs still felt like a house that hadn't been used for decades and had accumulated so much dust, it hurt just to breathe.

Frankly, Link knew logically that it was surprising that he was still standing, but the feeling his body endured seemed to be broadcasting the question of how he was still _alive_.

But he shoved those thoughts and feelings, knowing that the longer he stayed, the more likely he would lose both the capacity to know or feel. Mercifully, as he limped and stumbled down the dark, deserted corridors, which – amazingly – was still partially illuminated by emergency lighting and afterwards enhanced by the optic polarizers of his sunglasses' lenses, Link managed to make it through, even finding a ladder and an open manhole he deemed distant enough from the previous firefight for him to safely ascend and roll – quite literally roll – back onto street level. For just a few seconds, he lay on his back in the streets, ignoring the fact that he was pressing his weight rather uncomfortably on his sniper rifle, just to get some fresh air that honestly wasn't so fresh; even here, dust from the previous explosions caused by toppling high-rises lingered, but at least it was better than the air from earlier.

Save for the distant sounds of muffled gunfire, it was largely quiet. Not eerily so as it was in the tunnel, a good indicator that there _probably_ wasn't an ambush, but enough to give a sense that Link had gotten away. Still, he didn't take chances, which was why he kept close to the ruins of the city. He was moving north away from the downtown area, moving towards any ramp that led up to Highway B-4 and the commandeered APC waiting on it, moving into more suburban neighborhoods that saw an end to toppled high-rises, the height of the houses growing progressively smaller. It wasn't entirely unwelcome, as the infiltrator no longer had to worry so much about city-block-sized pieces of concrete, steel, and glass falling on him, and it still afforded him the same amount of cover and invisibility from any ground patrols.

But not, as Link found out a bit too late, air patrols.

It wasn't as if Link had a choice of what kind of cover to take in the matter, not when everything around him was the husk of shattered walls not much taller than they once were when intact. Still, there would've been alternatives to have evaded attention, and Link cursed at himself inwardly for not having even heard the helicopter approach until it was practically flying right over and past him. The infiltrator was just beginning to contemplate the possibility of running right back towards downtown; although many of them had already collapsed, perhaps the husks of high-rises could prove enough of a detriment to the mobility of the rotor aircraft and thus its ability to pursue the Joint Intelligence agent. But that thought came to a stop as Link looked up to realize that the helicopter was _not_, as he had initially assumed, a helicopter gunship or any kind of attack helicopter for that matter, but a larger, bulkier transport helicopter armed only with machine guns turrets on both sides. In fact, almost as a sense of relief, one of the turrets – the one to the right – wasn't even manned, indicating perhaps a shortage of available flight crew, or even an incredibly hasty takeoff. Even though the helicopter crew had obviously spotted Link and was coming around, so long as he played his cards right, there was actually a good chance the agent could evade the undermanned aircraft.

But, instead, a single coil of rope was thrown out the side of helicopter, unwinding itself before pulling taut with the helicopter hovering just a bit over twenty meters above ground, allowing for a single figure to appear on the side exit of the helicopter and swiftly fast-rope down professionally; someone was coming down personally to engage Link. Scowling, the infiltrator reached for his sniper rifle, but decided against it, knowing that he could never bring it up fast enough to aim at the new interloper and fire with any real semblance of accuracy. Dropping it may have saved his life earlier against the Southern Gerudo mercenaries, but he really wished he had kept that assault rifle from the tunnel…although, then again, the enemy was _just_ outside the assault rifle's optimum range, giving Link no guarantee that he'd hit anything.

The enemy infantryman – or perhaps infantrywoman, given the few hints about her physique that Link could glimpse from the distance – hit the ground and instantly began to move for the debris, shielding herself from any potential long-range attacks such as by sniper, but also pressing aggressively forward, moving towards Link's last known location. Knowing that he was likely not going to have any real chance in a head-to-head, one-on-one battle, the Hylian didn't intend to give his enemy that chance: He started fleeing.

It was just as well; a hail of bullets suddenly began to tear his environment apart, turning concrete walls into pebbles, a scene so violent that had Link not actually moved out of his last known location and therefore the blasting zone of the helicopter's machine gun turret, he probably would've been torn apart. Instead, it merely shot a sense of fright through his spine as the area behind him was swiftly rendered to dust, and he stumbled, barely catching himself and keeping himself low to ensure he remained out of the helicopter's line of sight. A grazing pass from any one of those bullets could easily tear one of his limbs off.

Stumbling his way as far from the hail of bullets as possible, Link carefully observed the movements of the helicopter, watching it complete only a semi-circle before seemingly peeling off as the machine gun fire died, the aircraft seemingly giving up pursuit. Rising only a little to confirm that observation, the Hylian watched as the silhouette of the helicopter rapidly grew smaller, moving away and therefore no longer a threat. Still, he wasn't convinced he was out of the woods; the helicopter _had_ to have radioed someone, and…

…And there was suddenly a blade that penetrated the wall he was peeking behind, slicing through his side.

The attack and pain was so sudden that Link couldn't even scream or cry out in pain, the gasp escaping his throat soundless. The blade was cold, but he could feel nothing but searing, intolerable heat from where the Valentine metal pierced the wall to pierce him. The cut was more than skin deep this way, cutting into his muscles, if only just barely. The body reacted before the mind, and even before he registered the pain, the Hylian was already stumbling back, more of a subconscious reflex to pull away from the direction causing him pain than a conscious evasion of follow-up attacks, which was exactly what happened as the point of the blade – which was actually not so much a point but a flat, giving the gunsword more slashing functions than stabbing ones – flashed twice, two bullets tearing through where Link _could've _dodged away from the wall.

He had no idea how the enemy managed to stab him so precisely from the other side of what remained of a wall, but Link knew two things for sure: That his opponent had a gunsword, and he needed to retaliate somehow.

Shifting his weapon into handgun mode, he wildly fired into the wall, first at the spot where the blade had retracted itself, and then at both sides. The walls were thin and brittle enough for his bullets to penetrate, but it didn't seem like he actually hit anyone, a point proven as a flash of Valentine green appeared just barely to the far left, and Link found himself diving into a ducking spin for another low wall as his opponent – the one who had fast-roped down from the helicopter – responded in kind, unsuppressed bullets blasting through the air as Link attempted to move across the wall, lifting his hand with his gunsword just high enough to fire randomly in his foe's direction, hoping that it would keep her – Link was fairly certain the soldier was a "her" through his last glimpse – preoccupied, if only for a few seconds so she would duck back to cover and so the agent could try to get more ground between himself and the enemy, perhaps even buy himself a head start by several seconds for Highway B-4, which now loomed practically beside him, tempting him with promises of a ramp that would lead up towards escape.

But it was not to be; even as he attempted his continued escape attempt north, the infantrywoman kept pace, also moving sporadically between debris and shattered walls that varied in distance from Link, making firefight dynamics extremely difficult to predict when it came to angles and speeds, and the Hylian feared with good reason the possibility that the woman would just jump over and press in for melee combat, something that his wounds would be a detriment to, a fact that both of them definitely already knew.

It was here that the infiltrator finally got a good glimpse at his rival gunsword wielder, a sharp young woman at least half a decade older and looking as if she had another half a decade more of experience. She wasn't dressed in the same fatigues as Link was, indicating that she wasn't part of special forces, at least not formally. In fact, she wore the same uniform exclusive to Valentine intelligence officers that the enemy major he and Durandara had eavesdropped on before. But the gunsword in her hand and the skill by which she wielded it left little doubt as to what this woman was capable of; his new scars were a testament to that.

A wall flashed before his eyes, a chance for him to move with a good concealment, if not cover, a chance for him to try to gain as much speed for his limp as possible without having to worry too much about enemy fire. The wall passed quickly, though, and was replaced instantly by the scenery of the ruins of suburban Astric…and, superimposed on that scenery, a green-clad Valentine intelligence major who had somehow instantly crossed the distance between the two, and was making a slashing motion with her blade with the intent of removing Link's left arm. The agent barely dodged in time, his right arm burning with pain as it reflexively came up to deflect the Valentine major's sword arm, tried to counter with his own gunsword before it was aptly blocked by a mere flick of his foe's wrist that brought her blade right back around. The trigger was pulled twice at point-blank range, trying to cover the distance where the tip of her sword wouldn't reach, but Link managed to sidestep both, desperately attempting to control the angles of his opponent's blade – and where she was able to aim her bullets – with his own. But his flesh protested against his every effort to resist his attacker by electrifying his nerves and sending cutting sensations into his brain, and Link was confronted with the very real possibility that the woman in front of him was even more skilled with the gunsword than he was, pushing her advantage, forcing him into locking blades with her, threatening to press into him and cut him with both of their blades should his strength inevitably fail. The Hylian winced in pain at just his attempt to exert enough force to keep the major's blade away from his flesh, barely able to hold the defense, wondering just how much more force he could take before he reached the breaking point. Somehow, it felt as if the Valentine major had won before the battle even began.

Scowling, Link attempted to press the advantage, angle his blade closer to the Valentine major as if trying to align the barrel of his weapon with his foe, fire off a shot or two in an attempt to cause her to back off, to suppress her attempt to exploit his shoulder wound. The first shot that flew out of the weapon did so with a physical jolt of recoil and a bit of a gaseous expulsion that could still be heard at practically point-blank range, and that sign alone caused the major to stiffen, to freeze for just a bit and consider secondary options. No matter how trained individuals were, they generally hesitated when bullets were flying uncomfortably close.

But there was only that first shot. When Link pulled the trigger the second time, there was no recoil or jolt running through its metallic frame, and the weapon suddenly clicked, a sound that sent a dreadful chill down Link's spine and a sense of triumph in the Valentine major in what was probably mutual realization.

He was out of bullets. She was not.

Some experienced wielders of handguns, people who've used a particular their handgun model for a long while, could tell if their weapon was out of bullets just by feel alone, the weight in their hands and its shift towards the barrel as each bullet was ejected from the barrel of the handgun. This was possible because of the handgun's smaller size, which translated to smaller weight; its comparative scale meant that the proportionate weight of objects even as light as bullets could be felt. But as much as Link's weapon resembled one under the right circumstances, his wasn't a handgun, but a gunsword; even when constructed with one of the lightest artificial metallic allotropes, it still didn't change the fact that the gunsword included the weight of a blade, and that by itself made comparing the difference between a loaded gunsword with an empty one a remarkably difficult task. Combine with the fact that gunswords were constantly being swung around, and that the switching between Link's model's modes that gave a not-entirely-insignificant kickback with the activation of its spring-loaded mechanism, and the task went from "remarkably difficult" to "near-impossible".

So, for the duration of his learning how to and actually using a gunsword, Link had largely relied on counting how many shots he had fired and how many were still left in his clip by heart, and simply switched magazines if he wasn't sure while making a mental note to check the magazine later when he could catch a breather. Unfortunately, keeping both in mind while in Link's condition was just _too_ much to ask for.

None of which mattered that much, of course, because the fact of the matter was that Link's weapon was out of bullets, and the Valentine major, hearing the same click that sent a cold, wrenching feeling through his gut, instantly jumped backwards to increase the distance between herself and the Hylian agent, remaining out of reach of Link's blade and firing her _own_ bullets at him at close-range. Attempting to dive for cover, he could practically feel the first two bullets brush right past him, coming too close to comfort. The third bullet, however, grazed against his leg, temporarily depriving the muscles of their strength as pain replaced power, and the fourth bullet slammed against the left side of his body armor at an angle that allowed it to be deflected, but still inflicted a great deal of pain to his chest, and for a moment, the agent was entirely breathless, falling desperately onto the ruined ground and trying to scramble desperately away on all fours, the only thing saving him from further and most certainly lethal shots being the wall that temporarily separated him from the Valentine major.

He hated to admit it, but Link was tired. No, not tired; _exhausted_. He had survived high-rises being dropped on him, he had barely managed to escape two Southern Gerudo mercenaries, he was not operating on nearly enough rest, and his lungs could barely catch a full breath. There was a gash both across his right shoulder and his left side, and bruises in nearly the same places. His muscles were sore, he was not getting enough oxygen, his heartbeat felt erratic, and his head was already beginning to feel hazy. Having to deal with a special forces-trained intelligence officer was who was just as good, if not better, with a gunsword than he was – whether he wanted to admit it or not – simply far beyond anything the Joint Intelligence agent was currently able to deal with.

In fact, he was fairly convinced he was going to die here.

At least until bursts of controlled, automatic fire came down from above, the sound thirty, maybe even forty meters away on the overpass that was Highway B-4, the report of the gun – to Link's practiced ear – sounding nothing like a gunsword or any weapon that he had heard fired today. It was aimed right above both of their heads, for the two gunsword-wielders were too close to each other for the shooter to fire from such a distance without fear that the other besides the target would be hit. Still, the gunfire was sufficient for the major, recognizing the echo of each gunshot, to temporarily halt, her sharp, intelligent mind instantly analyzing the situation before deciding she was likely not able to finish matters right this moment. He could not see his opponent from where he was on the ground, but Link practically felt a forced ejection of pride from the major, the abandoning of her conviction to end the matter right there and now, replaced instead only by pragmatic, practical thinking of needing to get out from what threatened to be a flanking, two-way attack with at least one opponent being at medium-range and using a weapon that specialized in such.

As the major retreated, fleeing from the hail of assault rifle fire that chased and strafed her, Link knew that the woman's retreat was only backed with the promise that next time would be different.

It wasn't in his nature to complain, but the agent really wouldn't mind there never being a next time.

His body writhed against the ground in a disastrous attempt at getting up, his mind knowing that there would be horrific consequences if he did not rise right now and get moving, but his body and soul wanting nothing more than to lie there for just a bit longer. Only with an immense amount of willpower did Link manage to ascend the remnants of a wall just high enough for his arms to grasp at its top for support, his hold almost relinquishing as pain stung his shoulder and side like barbed wire. One of the things spy movies never taught their audience: No matter how tough or well-trained one is, wounds still hurt immensely, and aggravating them came with predictable results. The infiltrator ground his teeth together so hard that it felt as if they would be buried within his gums by the time he was done, withstanding pain as he did his best to move desperately on. Both of his legs were dragging along now, damaged in their own ways, and his good left arm was offset back the hurt that lanced through his side whenever he stretched the arm out too far, a pain strong enough for him to nearly give up, to nearly decide that he would just rest for a bit despite the area being scoured by the enemy, to nearly decide that he was going to collapse right there…

But strong, thin, warm arms caught him as the agent fell, arms clothed in brown military fatigues going under his own to barely support his weight. Link detected effort; he was of respectable weight, strong bones and toned muscles accumulating a weight that was greater than the figure who had caught him. But even with his weight, even with a recently-fired Gerudo assault rifle slung around her shoulder and weighing down her thin frame, the origin of the voice still managed to hold strong, supporting Link's body, helping him along towards a nearby ramp that led up to Highway B-4. "You're going to be alright," a familiar voice – unsettled and anxious, but ultimately calm and strong – spoke through the fog that clouded his mind, even beyond his nagging, overwhelming alarm and suspicion of what _she_ was doing _here_, _now_. "Please hold on; the zorans are waiting for us on a commandeered APC just on this highway. We're going to get you out of here."

Despite himself, Link ultimately managed a tired smile before closing his eyes, if only to let his mind rest for just a few seconds, surrendering to the fatigue, surrendering to the need to rest, surrendering to the acceptance that this would be the _second_ time he had been saved by a MICO major by the name of Jessica.

* * *

**Exoria File #024  
Five Year War**

Despite not being an official military conflict, the Five Year War, lasting from 1497 to 1502 a.s.r., refers to the series of armed struggles between Gerudo government forces loyal to Garuda, led largely by the Military Intelligence Coordination Office, and secessionists of Southern Gerudo, represented largely by various militia and terrorist groups in the region. By the late fifteenth century, the struggle between Gerudo loyalists and southern secessionists had cooled to a manageable level, leading to minor concessions on both sides and a decrease in armed hostilities. However, the visit of then-Interior Minister Loraine in 1497 a.s.r. and the closed-door negotiations that followed between her and the Southern Gerudo provincial governments was seen as a sign of capitulation on part of the southern provincial governments, leading to riots led by secessionists and religious extremists, ultimately resulting in the highly-publicized death of a young five-year-old girl when Minister Loraine's security forces opened fire on increasingly violent rioters. Consequently, the militias and terrorists of Southern Gerudo enjoyed an increase in willing recruits, local funding, and vengeful motivation, allowing them to continue what they considered to be revolutionary action. Southern Gerudo saw increased civil unrest as terrorist actions targeted central government assets, which in turn incurred retaliatory strikes by military and security forces led by MICO. Most of the action occurred in the fringes of Southern Gerudo, but more ambitious insurgent operations also reached out to territories loyal to Garuda. The Five Year War was marked largely by a long chain of assassinations and terrorist bombings that occurred almost on a weekly basis, generating heavy casualties amongst both the military and civilian population. However, at least a dozen major paramilitary engagements between large numbers of combatants broke out over the five-year period, occurring both within urban and desert environments; officially, they have been classified by the central government as counterinsurgent or counterterrorism operations instead of military battles. There was ultimately no decisive victor of the Five Year War, as momentum on both sides began to wane in early 1502 a.s.r. before a relative period of tranquility pervaded Gerudo politics.

* * *

Author's Note: Holy snap. An update in two weeks? How did _that_ happen?

So, despite the fact that I've been trying to cut down on chapter length to make up for my previous over-writing my usual eighteen-pages-per-chapter quota, I still managed to surpass that limit once again here. It's going to be a fairly long trip to try to get the page numbers up to a multiple of eighteen to satisfy my OCD tendencies, especially given what will be happening next…

It's been three action-packed chapters in a row, so the next one will probably be a short breather, a quick update on what everyone is up to so far, a small break before we move onto the next part of the Jormungand storyarc, which will undoubtedly involve quite a bit more violence.

It went without mention last time, but as of the last update, Chapter Twenty-Two, it's been almost exactly two years since I first published _Exoria_; it first appeared on FFNet on September 25, 2009, and Chapter Twenty-Two went up on September 24, 2011. I honestly never expected to come this far within a span of two years of ups-and-downs. FFNet registers the story (as of Chapter Twenty-Two) with twenty-four chapters, and 313,015 words (although, as this includes lengthy author's notes that also include the reviews of my readers, the real word count as of Chapter Twenty-Three is actually closer to 258,609 words, including Omake One but not including the Exoria Files, also amounting to 463 pages on Microsoft Word, with Times New Roman, size twelve, single-space). That's 429 words a day through two years of goods and bads, college and work. I honestly don't know how I managed to do this, except that I've received plenty of amazing encouragement from reviewers who kept my motivation (and ego) afloat aside from constant encouragement and reviews from my readers, so I'm very grateful to all of you for helping me take advantage of the opportunity to write something on such a scale. 195 reviews for me is honestly an amazing first time I've received so many reviews, and I thank you for your appreciation and feedback. But Jormungand hasn't even been sunk yet, and we're probably only a third through (or a quarter through, or maybe even less depending on how I handle a few crucial decisions) the entire story. I would like to hope that all of us still have a lot to look forward to. (And, and for the sake of reference, 429 words looks kind of like the beginning of this author's note to right about _here_.)

I hinted at expressing fits of jealousy for this author's note in the _previous_ author's note, but as something more important has come up, I have decided to shelve my initial plans and share news of my current condition instead. Basically, training is now over, and I – in line with my terms for alternative service, comparable to the German Zivildienst program – am now effectively a civil servant working for the Public Relations Section of another county government. While this has actually thrown me quite a distance from home (okay, an hour away by plane or five hours away by train, so maybe not _that_ distant), the workplace is nice, the workload is light, and no one actually minds that I am reading and writing fanfics or chatting online when I have nothing else to do, largely because everyone else is checking their Facebook pages. If I have any complaints, it's that the state of the dorms are rather horrid (I possess an slight obsession with certain aspects of hygiene and an extraordinarily intense phobia of bugs, and I dread the day where I will wake up with a cockroach next to my face waving hello), and that getting home over the weekend can be expensive and difficult depending on how I handle it. But nothing's perfect, and the silver lining here is that – save for my own incompetence and muse – there should not be _too_ much in the way for me to continue writing _Exoria_ at a reasonable rate.

Oh, by the way, I've been toying with the idea of starting another fanfic project (again), so please take a look at the poll in my profile and cast your vote there; it's important to me, really. The choices are _Fire Emblem_ and _Mass Effect_ (or, alternatively, neither, thereby giving my full focus on _Exoria_), but please, please, _please_ only vote if you intend to read and review, so I know there is actual read interest instead of looking at a poll result influenced by whimsical voters.

For now, onto replying to certain reviews. (On that note, since I've been asked a few times already: For the most part, I respond to almost all signed reviews via PM when I remember it; I can't always reply to a review when I see it, and there are times where I simply forget because other things are on my schedule. The reviews that people see at the end of the author's notes are generally ones that have questions in which I feel the answers should be shared with the rest of our readers.)

dragoness of storm: _YAY NEW CHAPTER! I have to say I love this story so far, and it's only as far as near the second dungeon! I only found this when you posted last time, and it's about time I left a review. So we finally meet the reclusive zorans...should be interesting how they react and work with everyone's favorite green-clad hero (as long as there is no "Ruto" impersonations, the original was bad enough!)_

_Speaking of Link...Cliche-Epic-Hero thankfully does not describe him. The way you have portrayed him in this makes me (and probably quite a few others) want to tell Zelda, Jessica, and any other girl after him to back off, 'cause he's MINE! Ok, girl-rant-over-hot-guy over._

_On a serious note, this is actually a very good story, with Zelda character from all over, plently of OC's to make it yours, and even the annoying Durandara as the "fairy" in this story (please do not let her start with the "Hey! Look! Listen!" or I'll have to find a way to shoot her after Navi and the Happy Mask Salesman). I will wait for the final chapter will mixed feelings of remorse that the story is over, and anticipation over how you end it, but I can tell that won't be anytime soon._

_So until next time, dragoness of storm out. PEACE!_

I don't think there will be any "Ruto" impressions, although I think there will be enough about the zorans that will anger readers more sympathetic to our main cast, and the acts humans have committed over the past few centuries. I don't think I'll have Durandara consistently make any Navi impersonations; I may do it once or twice just as a gag or as a joke, but I'm quite aware of how far I should push reader patience. I'm quite glad that you like this current incarnation of Link, though, and that you've chosen to leave a review; it's always great to hear from readers, get their input, and have one's ego stroked. I'm horrible.

Mercifully – or, perhaps, excruciatingly – the end of _Exoria_ is still somewhat far off, so I hope I can keep you entertained for the many months to come.

Emminyan: _Yay, update!_

_loving this chapter, im so excited to hear about how Link manages to take down Jormungand. no doubt its going to be all kinds of epic._

_Just wondering, do you have any method or formula you undertake when you write out a chapter, or are you the type to write by the seat of your pants? the detail and effort you put into every chapter is so good im just wondering how you do it, or if its just that your imagination rocks more than i give it credit for already._

_looking forward to the next chapter and hope to hear from you soon!_

I think asking how I write a "chapter" may be too small a scale for me to adequately describe, unless you're talking less about a narrative standpoint and more about a technical standpoint. For the former, from a broad perspective, when I write a story, I have a rough storyboard of what happens throughout the story in my head. When I started writing _Exoria_, for example, I knew what the three superweapons were going to be, the relationship between Link and Zelda, that Epona would be a motorcycle, the little secrets that Ganondorf and Leonore and Emi have, the reason why Valent launched its invasion, and how _Exoria_ is going to end. There were a lot of details, however, that I did not come up with when I thought of _Exoria_, such as the inclusion of Manee and Sira (who I promise will make an appearance in the story proper eventually), the family background of Alexandria (which, while not actually very important to the story itself right now, will actually reveal quite a bit if you look closely enough at it), Stranger C.'s entire resume, etc. Obviously, these lacks of details mean I'll have to improvise when I actually get there. I know how to get from Point A to Point E, and I know what happens at those two points; I just don't necessarily have Point B, C, and D down pat, and will have to fill those with details once I get there. For example, I have rough, vague ideas as to how to incorporate the cast of the Jormungand arc into importance roles – including Steven, who I know has been feeling really left out, but he is important in his own way – but none of them are very concrete, just vague generalizations of what I _can_ do.

This "formula", if I can call it that, obviously doesn't suit everyone, but I find it offers a good balance between my usual obsessing over a lot of details and consistency, and a need to improvise when I discover something doesn't work out. It gives me a decent sense of structure while ensuring the entire thing doesn't fall apart like dominoes once one thing goes wrong.

As usual, thank you very much for reviewing, and I hope to hear from you soon. Also, your username rocks.

Jokeruto: _I like how this chapter gives the reader an insight as to the actual scale of the conflict. Interesting how Valent is going through great lengths to avoid civilian casualties, for a bunch of war mongering imperialists, their strategies seem to take a humane touch, I have to wonder what the motivation for that is. Can't wait to see more of the Zorans, reminds me of the current Israeli/Palestine conflict when it comes to them. As always keep up the good work!_

As I'm not writing political fiction based on real life, it's probably a lot better to leave the majority of my real life political views out of my writing. When writing fictional politics, I try not to "take a side" or present any one side as being inherently morally superior. Rather, I largely present the side that has the most storytelling potential, or one that a target audience can relate to most. Given that you've mentioned Israel and Palestine, however, I will mention that my views in writing the current status quo between the humans and zorans are based in my deep-rooted beliefs in moral relativism, which extends also to my views about the aforementioned conflict: That there is no clear right or wrong, and that both sides have wronged each other far too often for any of them to claim that they're in the right. The same goes for Valent, which you just mentioned are being as humane to noncombatants as possible, and which I have mentioned in the past have a much bigger agenda in mind than simply "imperialism". I hope readers will keep this in mind when they read the chapters to come.

Kaos Forte: _And now I am finally forced to delurk so as to comment on this. Congratufickinlations. Of course, I could have commented on the last chapter since that is when I had officially caught up, but I didn't like how it was ended, and so decided to wait._

_As always, the plot continues to thicken. One might wonder how we all can make our way through this story with how thick the plot is making it. Yet somehow we carry on. That said, I can see that we finally get to meet the Zorans. It looks like they are going to be something like what Indians or other minorities were like before they were widely accepted as citizens with equal rights, And the way that you have written them thus far gives them a very tribal feel that you don't get with too many characters that are written out. I am definitely looking forward to how this is going to be developing in the end._

_As to the whole Stranger C thing, that in and of itself is something else entirely. One might wonder how that would turn out, but as you yourself have said on many previous occasions, you like to play things close to the vest to as to not spoil things for your readers. Of course, if you had written things just so, there is the chance that Link could have at least killed Stranger C and possible Major Juno with his sniper rifle before having his location discovered. After that, it would have been a simple matter of killing Stranger C's companion. Still, that would remove what are likely going to be important development points for the story later on, so I can understand giving the three of them plot armor for the time being._

_And then there is Jormungand. I personally am wondering if you are just going to make it a water version of Volvagia where it is some great sea dragon or sea serpent of a mechanical variety. Of course, I have not played all of the Zelda games, so I am having trouble thinking of what other monsters Jormungand could be in place of since the only ones that I have played are...oh, I get it. Like a water version of those earth snake/worm things from the desert palace in Link to the Past, right? Of course, that's the only one that I can really think of at the moment, so I could be wrong._

_And then there are the sewers. On might say that this incurs a role reversal where the Zoran plays the part of Link and Link plays the part of Zelda where being led through the sewers of Astric are concerned. I wonder how many other people might have noticed the parallel between the two?_

_Anyway, I await the next chapter with a certain amount of anticipation. Let's see how the Zorans take to Link! =w=_

The reason why Link did not snipe Juno or the Southern Gerudo mercenaries has more to do with just "for the sake of the plot", I think. For the most part, he's trying to do what's equivalent to a "pacifist run"; it's not that he's shy about taking life at all, but he knows the firefights he gets into does very little to put even a scratch on the Valentine war effort as a whole, that he's a tiny scalpel, not a massive hammer. Trying to kill the wrong people means tipping off his whereabouts to an enemy that is actively looking for him and vastly outnumbers him, and – for the sake of his mission – it's honestly easier in the long-run to simply just sneak right by. Well, _usually_; obviously, Link is beginning to regret his decision to let Juno and the Southern Gerudo mercenaries walk away for the sake of maintaining his cover. Either way, it ultimately amounts to the fact that, for the vast majority of the story, Link has never actually actively engaged enemies unless they're in the way, and he absolutely has to, because he'd likely lose otherwise. For most of the story, you'll probably see this ongoing trend.

Compared to the other superweapons, Jormungand will probably have a much simpler design as opposed to my attempting to have it resemble any particular boss from the games. I think there's a certain limit to which I'm allowed to run off the Rule of Cool, a certain limit to which I'm allowed to be ridiculous, and I think having Jormungand be a massive, mechanical serpent in the water may honestly really be pushing that. Of course, given that Link wields a gunsword, the younger Southern Gerudo mercenary has a massive boomerang that really should not be able to be thrown or caught like that, and that Quetzalcoatl will likely be a too-massive-to-actually-fly plane, my words about wanting to abide by _some_ laws of realism probably comes off as rather hollow. If it's any assurance, though, there _are_ in-story explanations and justifications about the nature of the superweapons and how they can even operate. Gunswords and boomerang-kukris, though? Just roll with it, I guess?

Thank you for deciding to delurk and review, and I hope that continues to happen, just as I hope I continue to keep you entertained.

A Curious Stranger: _Been a while since I did this so I'll cover broad strokes. You've done an excellent job covering all bases of the story and I'm just waiting for more to be honest, there isn't much I can offer to you on the criticism front as your grasp of language and grammar is extensive._

_Good to see some counter-insurgency going on in Hyrule, and I'm eager to see how the Zorans in particular develop. All you've said is that Zorans live in 'reserves,' but with the only salt-water breathing Zorans being in Termina, with Hylian Zorans being freshwater types, I'm curious to see where they'll live. Zorans also had direct access to their deity in the form of Jabu-Jabu and his descendants, so there's a good chance they might still have a rudimentary form of magic, though that might be unlikely. What's interesting is your usage of the word 'Crusade,' making me think that you're trying to use it in the historical sense, which sends all sorts of alarms bells ringing through my head._

_Good to see Link also being pressured by Special Forces, though I'd probably go into some detail about their recruitment and training. Real life Special Forces tend to be more specialized in certain aspects, so it's not like they're good at everything. Autonomy is nice to note, but that doesn't mean they can do anything and everything._

_Just how knowledgeable Vincent seems to be is rather worrying. Learning that Valent Special Forces are being reined in is one thing, but being able to discover a new task force made to capture Link is another, along with the knowledge of a functioning AI. Opens up a huge can of worms. The knowledge that Valent is gathering people up brings up a new plot point as well. Probably looking for a person holding a Triforce piece or something. Or maybe it's that other theory I had waaayy back._

Geography on the continent is a very different matter in _Exoria_ than in canon. It is important to understand that Hyrule – as well as all other familiar locations – constantly change with each appearance they make in the installments, and it is also important to remember that at least one _Zelda_ game takes place after a world-destroying flood. As such, I would not make any conclusions regarding the Hylian zorans being freshwater zorans; after all, I already did mention that, until the Third Zoran Crusade and the subsequent human victory, there were zoran presences in the oceans.

In general, no, Valentine special forces are not masters at everything, but largely a collection of jacks-of-all-trades. It is arguable that they aren't excellent at everything in war, and they certainly aren't as omni-disciplined as Gerudo infantrywomen, but they have had plenty of time – eighteen years, maybe – to prepare special forces for everything they foresaw in this particular war. Still, in general, Valentine special forces specialize in surgical, fast-moving operations, which is why they have such autonomy, because it's simply faster to react on the ground. They may sound uncomfortably close to autonomous security forces, the kind in dystopian sci-fi that don't respond to the government and are comfortable with massacring a population for their own ends, but a mixture of Valentine discipline and very rigorous psychological and psychiatric evaluations ensure that as few operators go "wrong" as possible given the circumstances. That, and there are very serious repercussions regarding abuse of one's autonomy; it's a policy meant to allow officers to expedite sound choices of actions without wasting precious time waiting for approval that may or may not come from up top, not a _carte blanche_. Just remember that these people are the absolute cream-of-the-crop; getting into special forces – from mere nomination to the ACEOPS program – are actually more rigorous than anything we have in real life, including the utterly insane Selection for the British Special Air Service, considered to be the best special forces outfit in our real modern world.

I'm not going to say a lot about the twins Vincent or Lloyd, not any more than I have to (so I can keep you guessing), but I _will_ say that the two are some of the best officers Joint Intelligence has. Even by JI standards, the two are exceptionally talented, and one also needs to understand that Vincent is hardly alone out there, having stated that there are plenty of JI agents hiding throughout Hyrule behind enemy lines, taking advantage of the fact that Valentine forces are pursuing a "steamroll first, secure later" policy that has allowed stragglers from Hylian soldiers to JI agents to resist in small areas, inflicting minor chaos on Valentine forces. He's taking advantage of the fact that they are now a network of highly-trained intelligence officers, doing what they do best, and the information he shared with Link was probably put together from different sources at different locations. Still, I know where your concerns are, so I will give you the answer you may or may not be dreading: This is planned and there are reasons for this, which will eventually (that "eventually" _may_ take a while) all be revealed.

…At this point, I may as well keep a notebook to keep track of every little detail I may or may not have to address, minor or no. All of you seem very astute and eager at picking things apart.

I'm very glad to see that you are still keeping track of _Exoria_; thank you for coming back to be so kind as to leave a review.


	26. Omake Two

Author's Note: Chapter Twenty-Four has been delayed due to a project the county government which I currently work for has taken on. Or _had_ taken out, now that it's over, but I had been extremely busy over the past few weeks, accumulating in my having spent the last few days at an international conference in Seoul. I apologize about the late update, and will likely need a little more time. In compensation, here is the April Fools' Day joke all the way back in 2010 for those who missed it then; I'll try to get Chapter Twenty-Four finished as reasonably fast as possible. Thank you.

For best reading enjoyment, please read Chapter Nine before this omake.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Although there was no way to be certain bar asking Durandara to check the blueprints, Link otherwise assumed that the underground service tunnel that he was now navigating down was somewhere around five decades ago. Thankfully, it wasn't too dark; the lights down in the corridors were still on, although it was questionable whether the city grid was still feeding power into the lights, or if emergency power had kicked back on.

Regardless, though, Link was fairly glad. It meant that he didn't need to find a flashlight – a dead giveaway in terms of location in the darkness – and this tunnel wasn't a labyrinth either; although there were a few smaller, short pathways that branched left and right, along with a few doors, they mostly led to closets, storages, and drainage grates as opposed to anywhere significant. Even without Durandara, it would be difficult to get lost.

As it turned out, the teenager's name was, ironically enough, Buddy. When he introduced himself after being released from his cell, Link suspected that Durandara had a few choice comments about his name, all of it likely to be sarcastic, but she had managed to remain silent in this regard. Link's personal thoughts were something akin to the opinion that the name sounded very much like something given to a dog as opposed to a person, but he, like Durandara, managed to keep this particular piece of thought to himself; it probably wasn't going to help their situation any if they actually voiced that out loud.

Making sure that the two civilians remained behind him as they came around another turn, Link pressed himself against the end of the wall, cautiously peered past the corner to check for any potential hostiles with his gunsword in hand. Thankfully, there was nothing there, although this particular stretch of hallway, about eighty meters in length, was devoid of barrels and small crates that would've made good cover if they suddenly ran into something that wanted to harm them. There was a door on the right, though; Link supposed he could try to shoot it open and duck in there if they really were drawn into a firefight. Still, he wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible.

"Wait one," Durandara suddenly whispered in Link's ear as she had been doing ever since they entered the service corridors, making sure so that only Link could hear her to prevent the artificial intelligence's voice from giving away their location from any Valentine soldiers that might be in the area. Link refrained from moving out from the corner; the last thing he wanted was to be caught with no cover in the middle of a hallway because he was waiting for Durandara. "I'm managing to piggyback on one of their com relays. From what I can piece together, I don't think Valentine forces attacked Fort Regner merely to gain a northern avenue into Gerudo. One moment."

Despite a willingness to simply move on, Durandara's reliability so far led to Link deciding to allow her a few more seconds to decipher what was really going on; she probably had good reasons for stopping them here like this. Buddy, however, was not of like mind; not having heard Durandara, he was oblivious – and perhaps incredulous – as to why Link had suddenly stopped at a corner and wasn't pushing ahead. "What are we waiting for?" he hissed, still highly agitated; the Hylian agent wondered if this was the side effect of whatever drug he was taking, or if he was naturally and perpetually irate. "Come on, let's go!"

Despite half-agreeing with the teenager's sentiments, Link couldn't help but feel just a bit irate at how pushy Buddy was being at the moment.

Durandara decided to ignore Buddy as well, continuing to whisper into the Joint Intelligence agent as she delivered the news. "Link, Valentine forces have dispatched some sort of excavation force in the area," she quickly explained, her voice sounding somewhat intrigued, if not a bit distracted. "They're scouring the area under Fort Regner for some sort of…_artifact_, if I'm getting this right." A pause; it seemed as if Durandara was going over the possibilities before admitting, "I have no idea why they'd be interested in an artifact, but if it's something Valent wants, I think it's a good idea _not_ to give it to them."

Contemplating their options, Link wondered exactly how important this "artifact" supposedly was, with so much manpower Valent was dedicating to the area. Clearly, it was something important enough to them for a mass deployment of armed combat forces as search teams. True, interfering with their operations here was tempting, but he needed to weigh the pros and cons of the situation, figure out what was more practical.

Then again, so many soldiers underground search for an "artifact"? Something about this was not right…something that set of so many alarm bells in his head put there by years of training with Joint Intelligence. He nodded to Durandara; it'd probably be a good idea to check it out, if only for a look-see. This was too juicy an intelligence opportunity to let up.

"Head fifty meters forward," Durandara commanded, this time out loud so that both Buddy and Lily could hear and acknowledge; Link certainly wasn't about to start telling them what was going on. "To your right, there will be a door. It should be locked, but I'm sure you'll have no problems convincing it to open. From there, there will be a staircase that goes down twenty meters, and it leads down into the fort's drainage system."

The three obeyed, moving swiftly down. When they got to the door, Link switched his gunsword to longsword mode before positioning the tip of his blade right at where the lock was under the handle; he took a deep breath, then exhaled as he executed a thrust that severed the metallic lock sealing the door shut. As soon as Link had returned his gunsword back to handgun mode, the door slowly creaked open, allowing for the agent to point the barrel down the short corridor beyond to see if there was anything waiting there. There wasn't.

It was only after all three of them had moved past the door that Link shut the door behind them. It was impossible to lock or even properly close the door now that he had effectively destroyed the door's lock, but Link hoped for at least a resemblance of a locked door at the very least. The hallway they were in was also lit and led only five meters in, ending in what seemed to be a ladder that went downwards into the darkness below. They seemed to be the fortress sewers Durandara had been referring to; although it seemed to be pitch black down there, Link knew it was only due to the current lighting of their surroundings, and that the lighting down there was only weak, not nonexistent.

"It's going to get crowded down there," Durandara spoke aloud as she manifested in her holographic form once more for Buddy and Lily's benefit, appearing by sitting on Link's shoulder. "You two might want to stay here for us to check out the situation. If we don't return in an hour, I want you two to head north as fast as you can, join up with Hylian forces up there. Until then, wait here, hide, and stay quiet." She looked at Buddy just a bit icily – the orders were more for him than they were for Lily – before demanding, "Understood?"

Buddy seemed to flinch slightly at the hologram's glare, but he managed to recover a moment later with a fairly defensive look on his face. "Fine," he muttered in a way in which many teenagers seemed to mutter when they wanted to look like they were providing allowances instead of being commanded, then turned his attention to Link, who he had decided was more approachable, if only because he didn't _talk_. "You better be quick, man."

Link decided he didn't really need to respond to that. He spared an extra look at Lily – the girl seemed very much worried but still fairly calm and obedient – before deciding he was just going to leave things the way they were. Ensuring that his gloves were adjusted, Link lowered himself down the ladder for the first few steps before grabbing at the sides, allowing himself to swiftly and silently slide down as soon as he was sure he was properly balanced. He swiftly drew his gunsword and scoured the area for any potential threats; the sewers were more spacious than the service corridors he had been through earlier, and he wanted the range advantage the handgun could provide as opposed to the longsword's lethality. Once again, the area seemed clear…but fainted, muffled sounds of footsteps and voices echoing in the distance clearly told him he was not alone in the sewers. Thankfully, these corridors were just dark enough for him to sneak his way around – if he was careful enough, he wouldn't be noticed or spotted – and there was actually not much sewage or large pools of water in the area, meaning his movements wouldn't send ripples or splashes that would've been a dead giveaway in terms of location.

There really wasn't any choice but to move out; if the Valentine forces were still looking for the "artifact" under Fort Regner, Link was going to have to take his chances by following them and seeing if they managed to find anything.

"I'm getting new traffic on their com channels," Durandara finally deigned to speak after several minutes of Link infiltrating his way through the area, still not managing to encounter any Valentine search teams despite the constant sounds down here, which came with the realization that sound was not going to be a good bearing on how he was going to find search parties, not when everything kept echoing off these confined walls. "The artifact they're looking for is…_moving_." Again, Durandara paused at this, giving Link to ponder exactly what this meant, how an artifact could possibly _move_, and what Valent could possibly be looking for. "Reinforcements are being deployed as search teams."

This sidetracking operation certainly was getting weirder by the minute…but that didn't deter Link any; it only reinforced the belief that this was important enough to justify a detour, and that he needed to be exceedingly careful down here. He wasn't arrogant enough to see this as a challenge, although he _did_ admit he was just a bit curious to see how well he can pull things off here. If he was spotted…well, at least he had a bit of room, a bit of an error margin, with his uniform; he could always try to bluff his way through as a special forces first lieutenant.

What seemed like increasing illumination around one of the sewer's bend caused Link to dash for the nearest cover – a small flight of stairs leading to an elevated platform on the side – and aim his gunsword down the corridor. Although there was lighting down in the sewers, it was anything but strong, so the agent suspected that Valentine forces in the area probably had rifle-mounted searchlights to help search and navigate. Strangely enough, however, if the reflection off concrete walls was any indicator, the light seemed awfully weak for something coming from even a portable flashlight.

No point in taking chances, however; Link stayed where he was, deciding to wait it out and see exactly what was approaching.

It didn't take long; just seconds after he had ducked behind the steps, the source of the light finally floated over at fairly high speeds, its movements almost like a bird. It actually took three seconds for Link to realize that he didn't really understand exactly _what_ this thing resembled. It was a glowing orb of light seemingly the size of a tennis ball, maybe smaller, along with pixie-like _wings_. Its flight path and movements were erratic, almost as if it was fleeing from something in a panic.

Durandara summed up Link's thoughts well as she whispered, "Is that a…_fairy_?"

Link himself was quite surprised, and momentarily at a loss as to what he was supposed to do; thoughts about trying to obtain the fairy for himself to deprive Valent of it was preceded by a general disbelief of exactly what he was looking at. A _fairy_? They were supposed to be mythological creatures, not something that was real. He didn't have much time to ponder on this thought, however; just as the fairy began to fly right past Link, it stopped right by him abruptly, and although he couldn't see any eyes on that glowing orb of light, the Hylian agent had a fairly good idea that, somehow, he had just been discovered…

…And then, suddenly, his vision was completely white and his ears were ringing, completely overloading his senses of sight and hearing. He barely registered tripping backwards and falling back-first on the steps behind him.

He had worked enough with weapons, both lethal and non-lethal, to compare what had just happened with the effects of a flashbang: A brilliant flash of light and an eardrum-shattering bang had disturbed his eyes and ears enough for him to be disorientated for five seconds. Of course, it was probably an irregular comparison in terms of putting a fairy and a flashbang together…but, at the moment, it was exactly what Link felt like being on the receiving end of.

It was after what felt like six or seven seconds that his senses finally began to restore themselves. His eyes were readjusting to the darkness of the sewers once more, and the ringing in his ears was fading away, being replaced at Durandara hissing urgently into his ear. "Link!" she sounded worried and anxious. "Link, can you hear me?" Link barely managed to nod; he still felt a bit disorientated. He looked around, if only to try to get a bearing on his surroundings, noting that the light, the fairy-thing, was now gone; either that had been some self-destruct mechanism, or it had somehow fled. Nevertheless, the AI seemed satisfied with his answer. "At _last_! Are you alright? Can you move?"

Again, Link nodded…but as his hearing finally returned to normal, he heard different sounds in the background…that of shouts in Valentine that were slowly but surely becoming increasingly closer. Although the commotion was just a bit too far to properly hear from the echoes, making most of what Link heard somewhat unintelligible, he managed to pick up enough words that clearly told that forces in the area were now alert and looking for potential threats…such as Link himself.

"Okay, they definitely heard that," Durandara muttered; she didn't materialize into her hologram form, but Link imagined that had she did, she'd be looking in the direction of the loudest commotion coming down the parts of the sewers the fairy – or exactly what that had been – had flown in from. "Valentine units converging on our location. Forget the artifact; we've got to go, _now_!"

Link couldn't agree more. Shaking off the disorientation, Link took off into a sprint; his gait was slightly off and dizzying at first, but by the time he stumbled through the first corner, the nerves between his brain and his body had reestablished full control, and he was rushing through the area at full speed. Shouts and battle codes could be heard echoing across the pathways, accompanied by hurried footsteps against concrete, clear signs that Valentine troops were not far behind.

Still, though, Link felt as if there wasn't something quite right. His sense of vertigo was feeling a bit off, and his chest heaved a bit more than necessary with every breath and every step he took. It almost felt like he was moving in a body he wasn't quite familiar with? Was this some sort of side-effect from the blast earlier? Or had his senses not completely recovered yet? He didn't have any time to ponder too much about that, though. "Left turn!" Durandara snapped. "Right turn after that! The ladder fifteen meters down on the left will lead you straight back up!"

Link obeyed; making the turns at full sprint was a bit of a struggle on floors that had poor traction, but climbing up the ladder was possibly worse. Although he was fairly light, and the special forces uniform was appropriately sparse as well, it _was_ a remarkably long way to climb – sliding down had been far easier – not to mention he somehow felt...heavier.

No time to dwell on that, though; the voices echoing in the corridors, followed by ensembles of staccato footsteps, urged him upwards.

Managing to make the final burst up the last few steps of the ladder, Link climbed back onto his feet in the service corridors where he had descended into the sewers from, where he had left Buddy and Lily, where the two still remained. The two seemed shocked and surprised and even scared as he showed up…but what he suspected to be just a quick look of shock transformed into a longer period of fear, the two backing away and looking just as defensive as they were offensive, as if they were fully convinced this was a Valentine soldier out to get them. Link fought down a grimace; had the two forgotten about him _that_ quickly?

"Calm down!" Durandara snapped as she reappeared in hologram form, perhaps for a sense of authority and presence, although not _too_ harshly, not with Lily there as well. Apparently, she was just as perplexed about what seemed to be an unnecessarily exaggerated reaction from the two civilians. "It's just us! We..." She turned to gesture towards Link, and it was there that Durandara suddenly trailed off, her holographic eyes focusing on the Hylian agent as they widened in disbelief. "What the _hell_?" she sounded incredibly incredulous, and that was pretty much when Link began to realize that something might be wrong with him. "Link, look down."

Link frowned, not entirely certain what was going on, until he obeyed Durandara's command...

...And found himself looking at a pair of sizable and very much feminine breasts where his chest was supposed to be.

Link's lips parted slightly as he gaped. In fact, they were all gaping, the attention of four separate individuals suddenly fixated on the two significant bulges on his chest. Link ventured touching them lightly, hesitantly, with his fingers, if only to confirm that this wasn't an illusion; his fingers making contact with those breasts, followed by the subsequent and inevitable squeeze, made it clear it wasn't. This was not at all what he was expecting. It wasn't just the breasts either; his body had become slimmer, his figure lithe, and his curves feminine under the uniform he wore. His hair, in fact, had somehow grown out, especially in the rear, where they managed to reach the shoulder blades. The area was absent of a mirror, but it was not at all unlikely that his face had turned feminine as well.

Only years of training allowed Link to keep his cool in the face of such a completely ridiculous development. Was this the result of that flash from earlier, from that...artifact or fairy thing? Regardless, Link honestly did not want to reach down to see if there was anything missing. Considering everything else, though, the odds were not looking his way. Or _her_ way, now that things have undeniably changed, and certainly not for the better.

Durandara, for her part, had moved past the disbelief part, and was now staring rather curiously at Link's new figure...specifically, her new breasts. "Those..." Durandara murmured in remark with a bit of a distracted frown. "look very much like a B cup." She stopped looking contemplative and adopted a rather apologetic expression, however, when Link fired her a very icy glare. "Sorry."

The boy was far more tactless. "Dude," he simply gaped with a clearly bewildered expression, clearly not having seen – or perhaps successfully deciphered – the glare Link sent Durandara's way. "Did you just turn into a chick?"

Link wasn't sure if the overpowering frustration and anger was what was preventing her from panicking at the moment, but she didn't have time to kill the drug addict with her eyes, unfortunately; Durandara had cut in before then. "We've got massive enemy movement below," she hissed urgently. "Now would be a _very_ good time to leave!"

Although she wasn't entirely pleased with what seemed to be a forced topic change, Link admitted that now was not the best to contemplate her sudden gender change; silhouettes of soldiers were moving up the ladder right behind him, and he subsequently fired two rounds downwards into the sewers before taking off with Buddy and Lily. A distant sound of a body hitting the ground below told him that he had bought a few precious seconds of time.

"Go, go, _go_!" Durandara ushered both Buddy and Lily forward, who had burst out the door Link had sliced open earlier, and turned right to continue their way down the underground service corridors. No point in trying to remain stealthy anymore when the enemy knew they were around; speed was of the essence.

For a drug addict teenager who swayed a bit when he ran, Buddy was admittedly fairly fast; Link wondered if this had any part to any escapes from local law enforcement. Even Lily, wearing a dress and possessing fairly short legs for a girl her age, barely managed to keep up the pace; her face seemed stiff and nervous, as if she was too afraid to even properly cry.

Making yet another right turn, Link finally saw the end of the hallway twenty meters ahead, sealed by a wooden door that also seemed locked; the aging and dirtied emblem of what seemed to be Fort Regner's fire department rested at its very center. "That door is locked," Durandara quickly filled Link in even as she picked up speed and ran right past Buddy and Lily, her gunsword transforming into a longsword once more, "but the blueprints show that the door _should_ be brittle enough to kick d…"

And Link simply gave her gunsword a heavy downward swing, creating a fairly large gash across the wooden barrier. One half slowly detached itself from the other half on the hinges before it slid down and collapsed onto the ground. Link didn't want for that half of the door to finish collapsing, though; she simply plowed right through, fully expecting Buddy and Lily to quickly follow. Admittedly, the ever-present realization of her sudden state of sex irritated her enough to be just a bit less than patient.

"…Or you could just slice it," Durandara muttered, and although her hologram had not materialized, Link could imagine the AI shrugging her shoulders in slight bemusement. "Did you really have to slice it?"

Link didn't pay Durandara much mind at the moment, however, choosing to rush up the staircase from the fire department basement, stopping once only to peer around the corner at the top of the staircase to ensure there was no one out there. The fire department garage seemed empty save one fire engine that still remained. Moving out with her gunsword outstretched, she quickly checked the driver's side of the fire engine, found to her disappointment that the keys were not inside. And, with Valentine soldiers closing in, now was not the time to start trying to hotwire the vehicle.

The agent quickly motioned for Buddy and Lily to follow, which they did at a frantic pace; they didn't need much more motivation at this point to pick up the place. The three quickly moved back out on the streets. Although the township stills seemed as derelict, empty, and ruined as it had, sounds of alarm and commands told Link that she could not operate under the assumption they could rely on luck.

"Link," came Durandara's urgent voice. "Valentine radio traffic shows that they're aware you're dressed in their special forces outfit. Don't try anything sneaky, and just get the hell out of…"

She didn't need to finish that sentence, rapid assault rifle fire from behind them made Link increasingly conscious of their predicament. The agent ventured a look back even as she pushed Buddy and Lily – who was now screaming and crying but still very much running – up ahead into the remnants of an open-air farmer's market, where cover would hopefully be more sufficient; there were now about a dozen Valentine infantrymen giving chase some seventy, eighty meters away, with all signs pointing more to join the hunt. She didn't intend on having to deal with them for too long; Link, too, quickly ran to catch up with Buddy and Lily, hoping to lose their pursuers amongst the various stalls. Gunfire begged to differ; bullets tore through fruit, food, and stalls all around them, sending wet chunks of foodstuffs and splinters of wood flying all around them.

In fact, despite the chaos, Link couldn't help but feel a bit amused when she heard what seemed like a high-pitched squawk of a nearby bird – a cucco, apparently – as gunfire tore up the poultry section of a series of stalls she and the two civilians had run right past, and a live bird went up in a puff of white feathers before its cage went silently still.

Unfortunately, things didn't _stay_ silent. From what sounded like a block away, Link could hear…something. She wasn't sure what, but it sounded remarkably like a great wind, or at least a great series of small gusts that was fast approaching…along with a slightly softer but still present staccato of an ensemble of clucking.

_Lots_ of clucking.

"_That_," Durandara was thoughtful enough to remark even as worry and anxiety laced her slightly disembodied voice, "doesn't sound good."

Two moments later, Link found out that she had bad news and even worse news on her hands. The first was that, as she looked back once more, she realized that she wasn't losing her Valentine pursuers at all, and that they had just turned another corner, giving them straight shots at her and the two civilians, tempered only by the stalls around them that provided only a semblance of color. The worse news, however, was that – quite suddenly – a great flurry of white suddenly burst through from one of the alleyways leading into the square that hosted the open-air farmer market to begin with, temporarily obscuring Link's view of her pursuers…

And, all of the sudden, the entire square was filled with clucking, flying, pecking, scratching, angry cuccos that seemed to be everyone at once.

"Get down!" Durandara screamed – fairly appropriately, in Link's opinion – and the agent noted that even the artificial intelligence's voice sounded surprisingly afraid at the sudden development. "_Get down_!" No one disobeyed the order; Link, Buddy, and Lily quickly dropped down to the ground on their stomachs, just as a wave of cuccos flew right past them. Link could practically feel that talons and beaks barely missing her head as she hit the ground.

The Valentine soldiers, however, were not nearly as lucky. Link watched with idle fascination as the cuccos swarmed around and through the soldiers in green, flying in a massive swarm of white feathers that reminded Link very much of a bee or hornet attack, except this time on a larger scale. Screams could be heard consistently even as the soldiers' silhouettes faded in and out depending on how dense the swarm of cuccos around them was at any given time. The soldiers themselves did try to fire their firearms to get rid of the birds, but after only about fifteen seconds, the sounds of screams and gunfire had died down, and the fact that the cuccos were still suddenly squawking and flying and clucking across the square clearly meant the score was cuccos one, Valent zero.

Buddy couldn't help but raise his head up just a bit to incredulously look at what the heck was happening. "Are those _cuccos_?" he gaped, turning his head to and fro at the storm of white poultry.

"Stay down!" Durandara snapped at Buddy, and the teenager involuntarily ducked upon command, surprised at how harsh the AI's voice sounded, although its irritation was most likely targeted elsewhere. "Those things can peck you to death!" She was careful not to manifest in her hologram form and further agitate the birds flying right above them, but there was absolutely no question as to who she was addressing immediately afterwards. "We've got to get out of here. This is _enough_. Ysi, get back to writing the _real_ chapter, right _now_!"

* * *

Author's Note: My apologies if this ended up being a really poor attempt at comedy; I admit entirely to being humor-impaired. Similarly, I apologize for those who have read this before; I know this is nothing new to you, and – as I've said before – I'll try to get Chapter Twenty-Four out as soon as I can. In the meantime, let me respond to a few reviews.

Banjo2E: _Yeah, sorry I haven't been reviewing much lately; I've had a lot to do on my end._

_I liked the zoras. I kind of lost track of them midway through, but that seems to be the intention, as Link was focused at the time on the firefight._

_A problem: If there's no magic being used by anyone other than Zelda, how can that boomerang work? The premise of boomerangs is, you won't have to go running after it if it MISSES. If it hits ANYTHING its trajectory will be altered, and while magic (which was available to all the Links except Twilight Princess link, and his boomerang was explicitly enchanted) could explain flying through enemies and hitting multiple targets, the Exoria world needs a bit more justification for the lack of kukri-falling-down-next-to-Link-after-chipping-that-crate._

_I do hope the Valentine major becomes a recurring rival. She's quite interesting._

Please don't worry; I was expressing curiosity of where you went and affirmation of my respect for your reviews, not trying to drag you back kicking and screaming. Real life is important, and I will of course understand if you're busy. Still, it's good to see you again.

Strictly speaking, magic isn't gone from the world of _Zelda_. Rather, it is more accurate to say it's still around, but has become a lost art. This actually factors little into the aspect of the mercenary's boomerang. Rather, it's better to say that years of using this specific weapon has allowed the girl to learn how to compensate. A boomerang of that size and mass means – unless it hits something in a particularly solid way – there are certain things it can tear through without worrying _too_ much about an adjustment of trajectory, just as a wrecking ball isn't going to be too bothered by the mass of a single mouse in its way. Similarly, the boomerang tore through just a tiny bit of Link's shoulder, giving a cut but not even breaking any bones; given the force that went into throwing the boomerang, it was a trivial alteration at best which the attacker _did_ account for. There's an inhuman amount of physics calculations – combined with a great deal of "gut feeling" – going on in the girl's head, a rough idea of potential positions she needs to be at to catch that boomerang, potential places the boomerang could have its trajectory altered or even stopped, potential alternative tactics she would have to use if that really happens. This needs excellent reflexes to back up, so the girl can instantly figure out which plan to intact. If necessarily, think of it as a three-dimensional, variable, lethal, and outright insane of pinball going on in her head.

On that note, I think you may have confused what happened with the boomerang when it "chipped" that concrete block (not actually a crate); in fact, the kukri didn't so much as "_chip_" the block as much as it simply stabbed into it, like a knife thrown into a wall. The kukri flew and spun with sufficient force to impale the block, but not enough to remove itself from the concrete. But the attack alone – which was a feint, really – caused Link to hesitate long enough for the girl to squeeze in a free action, which was basically closing the distance between herself and Link to use her earlier feint as a platform for her follow-up slash.

If this fails to convince you in any way, then I suppose I may have to fall back on the explanation that the physics engine of _Exoria_ runs on the Rule of Cool? I feel pretty embarrassed just saying that, honestly.

Goldenrhino: _Yay! Update! _

_I haven't reviewed for a while, and I don't feel like giving an insanely long and detailed review, I'd just like to say that the detail you pack into each chapter is incredible. Where do you find the time to do it?_

_A few notes: it seems like link won't be destroying jormugand anytime soon, bushes simply getting there has taken like what, 7 chapters? Also the girl with a boomerang thingy seems quite...out of place. Even a gunsword seems more likely to fit into the setting that you've created than a boomerang...but you're the author, do what you want._

_Looking forward to the next chapter!_

Perhaps it's the influence of growing up with college students and individuals much older than I was even as a child (I do not claim to be either a genius or a prodigy, but I know I connected with people far above my age gap than people from within my age gap when I was very young), so I've felt the impacts of people coming to a certain age, and realizing either the making or breaking of their dreams. For me, sharing my stories with a great audience is _my_ dream, and – having watched others let their dreams slip out of their grasp – I pursue my art aggressively. I know I don't quite write at the professional level yet, and I want to have built a solid, worthy foundation before I ever consider going professional or publishing. In the meantime, though, I don't even want to lose track of my dream because I thought I could temporarily shelve it to sustain myself on a nine-to-five job. If I one day come to terms with the fact that I'm simply not good enough as a writer, I will come to terms with that fact, but that will be on my own volition, not because I decide to let the chances slip by. When you think that way, you will sacrifice a lot of time – a lot of time that could be otherwise spent playing, resting, or, in my case, taking care of myself (but, then again, I've always been of poor health) – pursuing that goal. When you do so, all that time you need will simply appear by itself.

…Which isn't to say that this is a miracle solution. After all, _Exoria_ still went on hiatus when I had to report to basic training. But trying your best and recognizing you've tried your best despite the odds is what's important here. That, I think, is where I find the time to do it. And I've spent enough trying to answer such a short question, so let's move on to the meat of things, shall we?

Again, I reiterate that I do not consider myself a sound estimator of any sort, and my words regarding this are tentative by best, but if I _had_ to guess, Jormungand will probably be fought at around Chapter Thirty-One, give or take a chapter. So it really depends on whether you consider that to be a particularly long time. I'll try to do my best to expedite the process of updating; I understand I have quite a lot of catching up to do, given my hiatus. I think I've already mentioned that the Jormungand arc will be the longest storyarc thus far, and will actually dwarf the shortest one, the Quetzalcoatl arc. So I hope this doesn't fatigue readers too much, for I will do the best I can to draw everything to a satisfying conclusion.

I must admit I already expected that the boomerang-kukri was going to be one of the contentious points of _Exoria_, and I admit the weapon's inclusion was actually more of a gut-insistence that I couldn't depart _too_ far from my source material. I understand that something like _Exoria_ is already testing the limits of what one might consider fan fiction, and – as I've mentioned time and time again – it's a fine line to toe, a difficult balance to keep. The boomerang, a near irreplaceable part of Link's arsenal, was thereby provided to provoke nostalgia in readers familiar enough with the games, even though I was very much aware of how this may already be very much testing my readers' willingness to suspend disbelief. If I were given the chance to redo things, I don't know if I would attempt to retcon this into something a bit more grounded in reality, but, in the meantime, I simply hope that my current decision is acceptable, and that my readers won't crucify me to a boomerang-kukri for such a transgression against expectations.

That was a ridiculously long reply, and I'm convinced I'm now just rambling. Thank you very much, and please look forward to the next update.

Heavenly Observer: _I find it amusing that all the wounds inflicted upon Link that drew blood in this chapter were inflicted by women. Then he was saved by Jessica... this is an omen, to me at least._

_Nice to see something really un-feasible in the form of the boomerang-kukri. I really expected it to be a one off weapon, but you made if RETURN. Then the situation just started really sucking for our poor little protagonist._

_I'm wondering HOW the Zorans plan on helping deal with Jorg. The Valent are going to be beyond paranoid by this point. There just doesn't really seem a feasible way for even aquatic beings like the Zorans to help... Magic? Mass suicide tactics? Attempt to short-circuit it with lotsa SHOCK FINS? Rustling up a GINORMUS SQUID? Heck I'm beginning to wonder WHY they might even NEED Link in the first place..._

_'It's difficult for a protagonist to pull of awesome moves and totally wicked saves whilst injured' seems to be a key part of this chapter. If I'm not mistaken, this is actually the first times he's injured in combat isn't it? If so I can see why, it really interferes with Links affinity for awesome stunts. _

_I hope that Epona isn't discovered. One of the intelligence crew might be smart enough to look for it, but I guess taking the time to search for it implies that Link MAY need an escape vehicle after destroying Jorg... which would utter unacceptable..._

_I find it peculiar that Alexandria chose to withdraw. Even if it was a small chance she still could of offed Link, even if she probably would of been gunned down afterwards. Still I guess she knew something about urban combat I didn't. Looking forward to her justification for that towards her superiors if Link DOES get to Jorg._

_I was under the impression that Link's gunsword was UNABLE to fire in sword mode. Which was why he had to constantly switch in that battle with the three Valent SF. Some confirmation would be nice, but for now I'm guessing he CAN fire in sword mode, but his aim absolutely sucks..._

I confess that this realization – that all the wounds inflicting on Link so far that drew blood were inflicted by women, and that his savior happened to be another woman – did not occur to me until you mentioned it. Of course, now that you mention it, it _does_ seem to be an omen to me, Link's ability to become related to all the lovely young ladies that have appeared in the games thus far. Naturally, what this will eventually mean in _Exoria_ is up to your interpretation, but you've just put quite a delicious bit on my plate, so…

I'm glad that you have taken my decision to include a returning weaponized boomerang as an asset to the story, and I can only pray most of my readers are of the same opinion. Regardless, I will have to learn from this lesson as a storyteller and writer. Still, I think it was sufficient in making life difficult for Link, and that's the contrast I wanted to draw between this storyarc and the Anansi arc, how absolutely different and difficult Link's task becomes once he has lost the advantage of stealth and anonymity, a sign that he is out of his league in a field he is not familiar with: Conventional combat.

How the zorans will play a role – a _very_ important role, mind you – in destroying Jormungand is going to be something I will keep close to the chest for now, but I will hint that this will become evident in around Chapter Twenty-Nine or Chapter Thirty, depending on how well I handle the pacing. Of note, however, is that the zorans are hardly the only ones around with their plans and plots. After all, recall that I had hinted that the various factions of Gerudo – Ganondorf, Emi, Sydney, the Armed Defense Staff – have their plans, their _separate_ plans, and the Jormungand arc is supposed to mark the accumulation of a lot of different hidden plans.

This is not exactly the first time Link's been wounded in combat, but – previously – his wounds had been light enough for him to simply shrug off. This is not the case. Mercifully, the wounds he has now are largely superficial, not at all life-threatening, and will heal swiftly with time, but it will also impede his combat performance in later chapters, as the wounds will prevent him from performing more strenuous, complex maneuvers that would otherwise give him the edge over the enemy. As for Alexandria, she had no clear shot, no good moves, and the understanding that – as good as she was – trying to take on both Link and Jessica was probably not the best move to take in the interest of self-preservation, her self-preservation not motivated by concern for her own life in the face of duty, but concern that she may not be able to successfully take out Link this way as well as the concern that the threat to Jormungand does not end with him. Remember that the 1st SIU and the National Defense Committee had discussed the possibility of there being _multiple_ infiltrators; it wouldn't do much good for the 1st SIU to lose a third of their manpower for one of what could be many saboteurs sneaking their way towards Jormungand. In her opinion, Link – with _his_ cover blown – would probably be the easiest to track; there are other chances.

Link _can_ fire with his gunsword in longsword mode, but it's a matter of practicality. In longsword mode, the weapon becomes ridiculously barrel-heavy; think of how difficult it would be to try and aim a sniper rifle in the heat of battle with only one hand extended outwards. Actually managing to hit Alexandria would've been highly impractical, as it would mean Link would've had to angle his blade point-first towards his opponent, thereby negating any real purpose his parry may have had. The move was made more out of desperation than anything else, as desperation seems to have been the theme of Chapter Twenty-Three.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Four

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Huntington Manor had been spared most of Valent's bombing, air strike, missile, and artillery campaigns, its surrounding high-rises taking most of the punishment instead, affording the large, beautiful residence only a few potshots that occasionally managed to make it through its unintentional defensive web. Dust still coated the area, swept clean only when it was necessary, such as when Major General Morgan declared it to be a provisional army headquarters in New Wagner, and when it was confirmed that Crown Princess Zelda would be joining them in the west wing.

Much to Impa's joy and relief, this blessing extended to – alongside electricity – to the kitchen, and – more importantly – the coffee maker that came along with it.

The sun was beginning to set on New Wagner, and although it would've been a time to prepare for dinner, the Hylians were acutely aware of the fact that there was a lack of food to go around in the city to properly feed everyone for an extended period of time, which included the army, the air force, the navy, and civilian refugees. Food was heavily rationed, and even Zelda herself – when she learned of the plight – declared that she would follow the rationing as well, despite protests from Major General Morgan, nearly all of the staff officers with him, and Impa herself.

That Impa had also decided to trim down on food consumption had probably not been the best example to set for her liege. That said, though, the royal chief of staff knew that she wouldn't be able to get through the day – much less work – without at least a warm mug of coffee…or, preferably, two. Mercifully, New Wagner's abandoned stores and supermarkets had been in no shortage of it.

Her brew finished, Impa raised the cup to her lips, took a cautious sip, wary of the mug's hot contents. She had been worried that years of having a secretary fetch coffee for her had dulled her skills in the arcane art of keeping office-workers conscious and on their feet, but those fears seemed to have been misplaced; some skills just don't leave as easily. Satisfied, Impa took another sip, nearly burned her tongue when the sounds of muffled footsteps behind her came into the kitchen, causing her to turn around a bit too abruptly as she caught sight of Leonore, who seemed equally surprised to see the royal chief of staff here. "Just woke up?" Impa asked good-naturedly, stepping away from the counter; the director of Joint Intelligence was still dressed in a spare bedrobe and wearing slippers.

"Had a few errands to run, leads to follow," admitted Leonore, making her way over to the coffee machine and beginning to make herself a cup of the drink with practiced movements even in an unfamiliar kitchen. She then made an almost rueful smile, added slyly, "Don't tell her Highness; she might post double guards at my bedside to ensure I stay there." The princess had been dropping not-so-subtle hints that both Impa and Leonore needed a set amount of sleep barring emergency circumstances. _Not that the war itself isn't "emergency circumstances"_, Leonore mused.

Impa chuckled. "And here I thought you had been serious about us not needing sleep."

Ignoring the dig the Hylian chief of staff made towards her throwaway attempt at gallows humor back on the Gerudo plane to New Wagner, Leonore quietly removed her mug from the coffee maker, took a sip of her drink, made a pleased smile as she found the taste to her liking. "I didn't think I'd see the two of us without her Highness around anytime soon," she admitted, turning around to lean against the counter and face Impa. "Coffee break?"

"The princess insists that I get some more rest."

Leonore raised an eyebrow. "By drinking coffee," she deadpanned good-humoredly.

The shake of Impa's head seemed almost sadly resigned. "An old addiction that has become hard to shake," she gave a mock sigh, smiling softly.

"Are you sure she's alright without you?"

Under normal circumstances, the royal chief of staff may have needed to remind the director of Joint Intelligence that this was the crown princess they were talking about, and certain protocols regarding reference to the royal family were in effect. But the days of war, of time spent together in a single diplomatic suite, of successes and frustrations and jubilation and depression had bonded the three ladies of Hyrule – the ladies who now moreorless made up the top of Hyrule's current command structure – certain inhibitions had been lowered, and Impa found it neither strange nor unwelcome that, for better or for worse, the two women were _almost_ treating Zelda like a daughter or a niece to be doted upon. "Morgan's still with her, so she'll be fine," Impa replied, a small smile and a distant gaze gracing her features. "She's tough."

"I find myself having to remind myself that she's only eighteen sometimes," nodded the DJI, slowly breaking into a small smirk. "I don't think she'd appreciate it if she found out, though."

"She wouldn't," the royal chief of staff chuckled, "but I do the same." A thoughtful pause. "Still, she could use some better company. She was quite amiable towards Agent Link's company."

For a moment, Leonore's expression went blank, which Impa knew to be the closest Leonore ever appeared to "surprised". "Really?" Leonore eventually broke that mask of stoicism, closing her eyes and giving a somewhat practiced smile. "I never would've been able to tell. Maybe I'm still stuck at two weeks ago, when her Highness still wanted him gone."

Impa blinked. "Two weeks…" she whispered, looking towards the ceiling as she recollected and recalled those times and memories. "It's _really_ been that long."

"Second week of this war's coming to an end tonight," nodded Leonore somberly.

"How did we ever get here?"

A smirk graced Leonore's lips once more, raised her mugs as if in toast. "As Hylians have always gotten anywhere: Blood, guts, determination, and a whole lot of stupidity."

The women gave a hearty laugh, lifted their coffee up just a bit for cheers, then drank more of their coffee. The conversation gently lapsed into silence, the cheerfulness giving way to the fatigue that had accumulated for two weeks, as both women embraced the warmth and comfort of their drinks, allowing for their minds to ease and the breaths to catch.

It was only after a while that Leonore spoke up once more. "You ever wonder if her Highness wishes her circumstances were otherwise?"

"I don't think anyone wants this war," Impa pointed out blandly.

"No, I don't mean this war," the DJI clarified, almost seeming mildly irritated that she had to. "It's happening, and that's that. But do you ever think her Highness wishes it wasn't…_her_?"

"Trying to save the country?"

Leonore shrugged. "Just leading it is tough enough. Policies, fiscal budgets, senators…" Both women shared a small chuckle at that last one before they quieted and Leonore continued. "I think you're now the person who has known her Highness the longest." And, if not "longest", then most certainly "best", Impa having been Zelda's caretaker since the crown princess was born. "Do you think she wishes that she was just…'_normal_', I suppose? That it isn't her with the crown today? That the burden isn't on her shoulders?"

It was Impa's turn to shrug. "The burden's on her shoulders now. It's happening, and that's that."

The DJI was not often surprised, but it took a few moments before Leonore broke into a tired, resigned, but somehow admiring grin as she chuckled, hoist by her own line. "Beautifully said."

That could've been the end of that, but Impa too sharp not to see that this question had not come out of the blue. "What brought this up?"

Leonore did not immediately respond, suddenly looking absentmindedly fascinated at the way the coffee swirled in her mug. It was only after several moments of silent contemplation that she finally deigned to say anything at all. "Mentioning Link reminded me of a bit of thinking I've managed to do over the last few days. It's just…" The DJI stopped for a moment, looked away as if to gather her thoughts, tried to figure out how to say what she wanted to say. "Link's a soldier. He's devoted to a sense of duty. It may have something to do with having little but that to grow up on, with the Spencer Welfare Program and the education we provided him in preparation for being picked up by Joint Intelligence. I don't think he'd hesitate if we ever told him he had to give his life because it's his job. Hell, he's already done so; all of us believed, to one extent or another, that attempting to sabotage Anansi was a one-way trip, a suicide mission. And I suppose it occurred to me then, that we just sent him…" Again, Leonore paused, as if to reflect on what she was saying, what she was about to say, and took a deep breath, sighing explosively, "He's _nineteen_, Impa. It was legal for him to start drinking only last year, and we just sent him on a suicide mission and didn't _really_ expect him to come back. And while I know both her Highness and Link are devoted to this country, and I know they'd both do whatever they have to do again if they could go back and reconsider their decisions, it's just…" and, just for a moment, it seemed Leonore would trail off into silence, leave whatever she wanted to say unspoken, but she ultimately finished with a tired, resigned look at the royal chief of staff, "…how is it we've gone to having eighteen-year-olds as our commander-in-chief and nineteen-year-olds as our most strategically-valuable asset so far?"

"Divine intervention?" Impa suggested in jest, catching a look of irritation from Leonore so severe that she had to wonder if that look was also deliberately made in jest. "All I know is that I have to be there for her Highness when I can, just as you're there for Agent Link. In such times, they have little else to confide their hopes and fears to."

Leonore chuckled. "From nanny to confessional priest in two weeks flat," she joked.

The royal chief of staff made a begrudged noise, but didn't actually seem too offended. "Her Highness wouldn't favor that comparison," she snipped, but it almost seemed as if she was quietly agreeing.

The DJI raised her mug into the air in toast. "To two old, overworked women?" she proposed.

Impa gave a tired, resigned, but humored smile at yet another joke about her age – _their_ ages. "I _should_ feel offended," she joked.

Grinning, Leonore gave just a bit more thought before raising her cup again. "To coffee, then."

"The lifeblood of tired workers everywhere," agreed the dark-skinned woman, their respective mugs clinking once in meeting before the two ladies drained their warm, swirling contents.

* * *

The Valentine armored personnel carrier offered no immediate windows or portholes for Link to look out of the armored vehicle, to look at the environment outside of the APC, leaving him with only the hope that their commandeered vehicle, somehow acquired by the zorans in Astric, was not being tracked or pursued. The only comfort he could derive from the situation was the fact that he knew that they were into early nighttime, and zoran vision, adapted to the darkness of the lower seas, would have little problem in seeing through the veil of blackness that masked their presence without headlights. At the same time, given that they had already been traveling for quite a while in a direction Link could only suppose was northwards beyond the perimeters of Astric given what clues he had picked up, he reasoned that if Valentine forces knew about the commandeered vehicle, they would've destroyed them by now with a quick air strike.

The only real worry the agent had, therefore, was the possibility that they would be detected by the enemy through other means, possibly simply stumbling onto preexisting patrol routes the Valentine military took. But, perhaps sensing uncertainty on Link's part, the young zoran – the Hylian _assumed_ he was young by facial features that seemed to share enough human traits to hint at such – driving the APC almost seemed offended – he probably _was_ – that the human would even _dare_ consider it a possibility. "We _have_ been gathering intelligence on Valentine forces," he said quite snappishly, his voice sounding more like metallic clicks than any form of speech Link was otherwise familiar with. "Quite adequately, in fact."

Which Link was acutely aware didn't really alleviate his fears, not when he knew absolutely nothing about zoran capabilities at intelligence-gathering or subtlety, but given his own situation, the infiltrator knew that lying on several adjacent seats in the back of the APC gave Link few options by which to enact correctional measures if they were necessary, so he simply accepted things as they were and hoped the zorans actually knew what they were doing. He was just going to trust the zoran to drive through some mysterious path that not only avoided Valentine patrols, but also offered concealment for anything out of the ordinary.

The two of them were hardly the only occupants of the APC. There was, of course, Jessica, who had managed to pull the heavier Link through dozens of meters of shattered streets, up a ramp of Highway B-4 that she had descended from after providing covering fire in his one-sided battle against a Valentine military intelligence major, then onto the waiting APC that the zoran squad Link had met with had informed him about in the first place. Hovering above the Joint Intelligence agent, the major seemed more annoyed in an almost comically maternal manner than worried as she applied a combination of disinfectants, medication, healing salves, and bandages onto the wounds he had sustained ever since he had stepped foot into Astric.

For the most part, Link felt a great deal better. For one thing, an uninterrupted period of around thirty minutes that allowed him to take slow, deep breaths of clean air seemed to have brought his lungs back up to a condition that didn't want to make him want to shut them down whenever he inhaled, and while he still let out a pained cough or two every once in a while, the full extent of his respiratory functions seemed to have returned. His heartbeat, too, had settled down to a traditionally healthier pace. Although they had swelled a bit, his bruises seemed manageable, although it still didn't ignore the fact that they still hurt whenever he twisted his muscles the wrong way, something that was sure to be a significant obstruction in the days to come. More importantly, however, were the cuts he had suffered, having been aggravated by gunshots barely deflected by the light armor he wore. It was a bloody mess – better than it looked, fortunately, but still a mess – before Jessica had managed to stop the bleeding, and even the MICO major – who seemed to have handled most of Link's other injuries with the ease of practice – had trouble in trying to sew the gashes together, applying some kind of gel that Link could only guess was some kind of traditional Gerudo healing salve. When it was rubbed on muscle and raw skin, the infiltrator had winced instinctively on reflex, only to find that the semi-liquid actually didn't hurt even upon contact. At first, the skin and flesh where the gel touched went strangely cool before it suddenly became burning hot and itchy, but Jessica had already begun to bandage his wounds, sounding just a bit fussy as she did so. "I cannot believe you don't even have a first-aid kit," scolded Jessica even as she did the final knot on the bandage wrapped around Link's right shoulder, securing the tightening fabric. The infiltrator winced; perhaps he was just overthinking it, but he couldn't help shake the feeling that the MICO major tightened that bandage a bit _too_ much deliberately, a small sign of her irritation at how reckless Link had been.

Not that he had wanted too; he was too much of a professional to really believe in heroism and the recklessness that came with it. But, then again, it wasn't as if he had been given a lot of choices at the time. Everything considered, Link thought he had largely come out of the battle fine, only worn down by minor injuries and fatigue and quite a bit of pain. After all, on the other side of the APC's rear, the Joint Intelligence agent could see the unconscious form of an injured zoran lying down on the other row of seats, his breathing labored, blood a silver-like sheen of purple crested on bandages hastily and heavily applied to a plethora of gunshot wounds that he had suffered from his fight with Valentine soldiers. Link did not know how zoran physiology worked, did not know how close the zoran – who had already been in the APC before the Hylian managed to get in – was to death, but the aquatic humanoid honestly looked pretty bad.

Between the two wounded combatants was the familiar form of a familiar military reconnaissance motorcycle prototype. There was no way Link would've left Epona behind for Valentine forces to find, and as soon as he had deemed enough time had passed since they left Astric, the agent had activated the motorcycle's auto-navigation system, and, by the end of ten minutes, a rider-less motorcycle was traveling alongside the APC, giving Link the chance to load it into the APC and have it come along for the ride despite what was otherwise a very tight fit. Epona was actually remarkably small by the standards of an armored military reconnaissance motorcycle, but, in the end, it _was_ a military reconnaissance motorcycle, and those, by definition, were practically two or three times the size of their civilian counterparts, making the process of loading Epona onto the APC problematic. Further trouble was only allayed by Jessica assisting with getting the motorcycle onto the APC…and, secretly, a little assistance from Durandara.

The sound of alien footsteps, slick webbed feet against metal, attracted the attention of the only two humans of the APC, and Link tilted his head just a bit to look at the only zoran here that he was familiar with, recognizing the older form, identifying him as the same zoran that had understood Link's warning before the ambush, the same zoran who had told him to escape to the same APC they rode on. He had survived and dragged the lone survivor and wounded here from the previous firefight, something that the JI agent could hardly believe, especially since Link had had a head start, leaving the zorans behind in their contention against Valentine soldiers. The thought of asking exactly how the older zoran managed to pull off something Link would've otherwise considered impossible was definitely there on the infiltrator's mind, but he decided against it, knowing the zoran would probably not answer the question. The zoran moved over to where Link laid, right behind Jessica, staring down at him with a quiet, unreadable look while the MICO major seemed to tense where she knelt beside Link's prone form, a series of minimal, subtle movements edging her defensively between the Hylian and the zoran. She tried to suppress a frown at the fact that the only zoran from in front of the APC who wasn't the driver had approached them with his assault rifle still in his hands, not slung around his shoulder. Hidden out of the zoran's line of sight but not from Link's, a tiny feminine hand edged close to the major's pistol sidearm, the strap of its holster unsnapped, its safety off.

But Link could not sense killing intent from the zoran, who simply ignored the defensiveness that wound Jessica's body like a coiled spring, merely saying stoically in that metallic voice of his and his species, a voice that sounded dangerously close to a scoff but was not, a voice that sounded more like its owner made an observation instead of expressing an opinion: "You fight well."

Link nodded politely, respectfully, but didn't offer much in the way beyond that. It wasn't contempt as much as it was a realization that the zoran may not have meant those words as a compliment as much as it could've been a warning that Link was considered a potential threat that had to be dealt with as soon as possible someday. Thanking the zoran for that could _possibly_ be a misplaced gesture – then, again, the Hylian knew virtually nothing about zoran culture – so a vague nod that could be interpreted in any way was probably the safest option for now.

The zoran did not nod, only looked back with those fascinating orb-like eyes of his without a change in expression, without an increase or decrease in interest or mood, before he finally turned around to return to the fore of the APC where the driver was, apparently deciding _that_ was as much human proximity he could tolerate within so short a timespan.

The Hylian, watching the shrinking back of the older zoran who did not so much as provide a name or an explanation, noted with some curiosity that humanoid's attitude, noted that there was so much neutrality in that voice, so much _control_. _No_, Link thought, realizing that such wasn't quite the right way to put it. _There is a _lack_ of control. He doesn't _need_ it_. He wasn't as good at psychological profiling as some other Joint Intelligence agents like Lloyd, but Link could tell that there was a natural detachment that was simply an integral part of the older zoran's psyche, allowing a naturally calm, level-minded mentality despite the fact that – out of just more than a dozen men he had brought into the sewers of Astric – only one of his comrades had survived that journey, and _that_ comrade was lying painfully on the other side of the APC with bullet holes in his body.

Link wondered if _he_ could do that, naturally hold such indifferent composure in the face of such an outcome. In a way, he considered himself ruthless – he had not imagined himself as otherwise when he accepted a job with Joint Intelligence with absolutely no romanticism, knowing full well what was expected of him – willing to sacrifice whatever was necessary and reasonable to complete a mission. Assuming what MICO said about the zorans was true, assuming that the zorans truly wished to help destroy Jormungand, assuming that the zorans truly were endangered by the Valentine military campaign, then Link understood what the older zoran understood, agreed that the sacrificing of a dozen lives – allies and colleagues and friends – was worth saving hundreds of lives, thousands of lives, hundreds of thousands of lives. There was no contest about that. But even the infiltrator wasn't sure he could carry himself as casually as the older zoran had it been _Link_ who had lost more than eighty percent of his team. The human would've felt angry, bitter, self-loathing in his own quiet, controlled way. The older zoran didn't need to feel it at all.

But, then again, the silent agent supposed there was no better race to _not_ feel it than the zorans. After all, they were no strangers to hardship and loss.

"Do you think we can trust them?" The question brought a close to Link's thoughts, allowing him to focus instead on the MICO officer who relaxed slightly – but only slightly – as her hands again busied themselves with the agent's wounds. From where he lay, he noticed that the major's body, positioned near his head, had suddenly come just a bit closer, and Link subtly looked away, trying not to look embarrassed, trying to pretend he was just stretching, trying to turn her head away from the feminine curves of her chest, trying to rationalize that the major was just feeling defensive or positioning herself to have her hands closer to the sidearm in her holster in case there was a sudden case of treachery. But with that look, he took a careful look at the backs of the zorans, ultimately shrugged, an answer that did not seem to satisfy Jessica but ultimately brought an end to that question. Link didn't think it was a matter of trust as much as it was a situation of mutual alliance. Back in Astric, the zorans had told him to leave without them if he got to the APC first. Given the obvious dislike they had for him – for all humans in general – the infiltrator seriously doubted that the order had been given out of any love they may have had for him. For better or worse, to a certain extent, they _needed_ him. They could be trusted to act on mutual interest so long as that interest remained exactly that: _Mutual_.

And although it felt cruel even to him, Link couldn't help but wondered if _he_ could trust _Jessica_.

He had no doubts about her capabilities and moral character, and the genuine gratitude he felt for her pulling his ass out of the fire _twice_ was certainly a plus. But she was still a MICO major, and the infiltrator had not forgotten that the Hylian entourage to Garuda had all been convinced that the woman Jessica reported to had something up her sleeve, something that apparently exploited the fact that Zelda had not been anywhere close when MICO moreorless commandeered the Joint Intelligence agent's support. Neither did Link miss the fact that Jessica had somehow managed to make it to Astric and rendezvous with the zorans so quickly, given the fact that she resembled no Valentine woman while Link – physically indistinguishable from a Valentine native at first glance and wearing special forces fatigues – had been bogged down from one firefight to another since making landfall in Hyrule.

One did not work for Joint Intelligence without being careful, bordering on paranoia. As much as Link respected Jessica and considered her an ally – perhaps even a friend – the political realities were too much for him to ignore. Everyone played their double-game; no one was to be trusted.

But Link didn't blame Jessica. If anything, he respected her for it. Loyalties were a difficult thing, and if the situation were reversed, if it was Joint Intelligence that had tasked him with deceiving Jessica today for the sake of national security, he wasn't sure he'd do anything different from what Jessica may or may not be doing now. He wouldn't be proud of it, and was inwardly thankful that his career at Joint Intelligence had been more focused on information-gathering than playing the role of a double agent. Trained as he was, deception and convoluted politics just wasn't his thing. But some people did what they had to do. Vincent was one. Link considered himself as one. Maybe Jessica was one as well. And that professionalism was something he held in high regard.

In the end, the Joint Intelligence agent still respected the major from the Military Intelligence Coordination Office. Loyalties and friendship were not mutually exclusive, even if they often clashes in the line of duty. And, as the gallows humor amongst spies and operatives went, if Joint Intelligence ever ordered Link to neutralize Jessica, he'd probably put two bullets into her chest.

After all, if he _really_ wanted to kill her, he'd put two in her head.

"There," Jessica finally declared, her bloodstained hands – _Link's_ blood – finally removing themselves from the Hylian's wounds as she wiped anxious sweat from her brow with her clean wrist, satisfied that the bleeding had stopped and the proper medication applied. "The wounds should heal in a few days, but in the meantime, please try to avoid strenuous activity. I…" she averted her gaze just a bit, almost as if embarrassed by the words that shyly came out of her mouth, "…will be here to help you, so there's no need to strain yourself. You've already done more than we could ever hope for. Please get some rest until we reach our destination."

Link was not particularly eager to be written out of the action over just a few wounds, but he still offered a nod of his head and a soft, gentle smile that expressed his gratitude over Jessica's care. The MICO major, catching the look, blushed visibly and turned away with more intensity than before. Link _may_ have heard the stammering of "you're welcome" come out of the major's lips, but if they had, it was so soft that even _he_ wasn't entirely sure if the words were actually uttered.

"Once you're done flirting," a familiar, disembodied voice suddenly resounded within his ear, its volume low enough to ensure Link was the only one who heard it, but in a tone that sounded as if it was spoken as anything but a whisper, in a way that could be best described as a younger sister feeling annoyed with an older brother, "I would like to remind you that you're wounded, in an APC with two zorans who look ready to sell your organs, and still on the vaguely impossible task of destroying a superweapon supposedly capable of destroying entire fleets." The agent would've liked to imagine that, had Durandara taken holographic form now, her arms would be tightly crossed and her foot tapping in an annoyed manner. "Just making sure you remember."

An artificial intelligence, feeling jealous? Link found that thought rather amusing.

Gently closing his eyes, the Hylian agent slowly allowed himself to relax even within the uncomfortable confines of the APC to get some rest against the pain, the noise, the passive hostility of the vehicle's occupants. Fatigue ensured he swiftly fell asleep.

* * *

People sometimes commented she had no fear. These were people who had seen her charge across deserts and sands stained red by battle and blood, people who had seen her charge into great firestorms of explosions and bullets with nothing but an assault rifle, people who had seen her charge even as children left and right were cut down so swiftly that she was the only one who remained in the blink of an eye.

The girl, of course, knew that this was a ridiculous statement. As much as she was conditioned otherwise, everyone had fears. Everyone had that one thing they were afraid of, the one thing, the many things they were terrified of. She herself was not an exception.

Jumping across rooftops of buildings that threatened to collapse onto their wrecked, brittle selves, however, was not one of those fears.

Light, nimble feet made athletic jumps after daring sprints, floating over her paths before they disappeared for a while, eventually accumulating in a new path upon which she landed with such grace that only silence greeted her footfalls. Her lithe, acrobatic form soared just above the suburban cityscape of Astric, her movements looking almost airborne, as if she only needed to touch the ground to steer. Every now and then, she'd need to jump over an alley onto the next set of buildings, or even descend from where she was to navigate a street at the end of a city block before regaining the advantage of elevation on the next block. For many, this would sound dangerous, perhaps even insane, but between her confidence in her free-running, her skill with her boomerang-kukri, and her need to succeed at all costs, the girl considered this just part of her job, part of her life, part of her being.

Her green eyes narrowed; the rooftop she was on, belonging to a four-story apartment building, ended in a drop to a lower rooftop two floors below. But without breaking pace, without slowing, she simply jumped forward at the very end of that path, leaping off the ledge of the rooftop before falling almost diagonally as her raven black hair flowed like ribbons behind her. When her feet first touched the ground, the rooftop that constituted as the third floor, she threw her weight forward, moving her momentum anyplace but downwards where the floor was, dispersing momentum that could break her legs into a smooth roll just as soon as her knees bent to absorb the impact. One rotation later, she was instantly back onto her feet, running once more, a seven-meter drop not an obstacle that could stop her.

They – her master and herself – had lost contact with their target, the Joint Intelligence agent masquerading as a Valentine special forces major, after the firefight in the tunnel, but the duo was convinced that he was not in top condition and couldn't have gotten too far. However, after more than half an hour of searching, the girl was no longer sure this was the case, wondered if the agent had already left Astric. Valentine forces – what little of them there were in the area – were combing the area block-by-block, but if the Hylian saboteur had made it to the outer perimeter of their search area and decided he simply wanted to hide and lay low, then it was unlikely any of them, Valentine soldiers or Southern Gerudo mercenaries, were going to find him, even with the Valentine sweep, even with the girl jumping across buildings to keep a look out on the streets that could be the Hylian's escape route.

At the end of the rooftop she ran across was a wall, part of a building that rose over the two-story building she had descended onto, rising another seven meters to hint at another four-story structure. But that, too, posed little problem to the girl as she merely jumped up onto the wall feet-first, boots scrambling up and diverting her sideways momentum upwards, getting just far enough to ascend two meters before her hands caught onto a metallic water pipe constructed against the outer apartment wall, which swiftly allowed her to ascend by climbing up the metallic construct for another four meters…until the pipe – which had hardly gone through the bombardment of Astric unharmed – suddenly snapped at the top, and the pipe bent, leaning outwards, threatening to crack away entirely and send the girl falling onto the ground below…except she had already used her arms, the same arms that had been strengthened for her to use an oversized kukri with ease, to throw herself off the pipe and onto the ledge in the wall that was a windowsill on the fourth floor of the building. Her gloved hands caught, and she took just a split-second for the rest of her body to stabilize against the side of the building at the end of that jump, to ensure balance was maintained, before she was back in her upwards action again, using the window – the glass was gone, the damage from tactical weapons not having so much as "shattered" the glass as much as the glass was completely _gone_ – to propel herself up the last one or two meters onto the rooftop, her hands catching the very edge of the structure's top, the corner of the building, and pulling her body up to the roof.

The building she stood upon was at the very corner of the block she was on, and as she walked over to and stood at the outer corner of the rooftop, overlooking the intersection of the streets facing her and the rest of the suburban cityscape of Astric's boundaries beyond it, the girl came to face the fact that she had lost all tracks of her target. She was not going to find him bar a miraculous display of luck, no matter how fast she continued to scale buildings and traverse blocks, looking across the empty sight of Astric and the hills that lay beyond them from her vantage point.

That sweeping gaze allowed the girl to catch a glimpse of her shoulder in the peripheral of her vision, and – with regret – her mind focused on fresh memories associated with what looked very much like drops of blood having only recently stained the shoulders of her clothes. She had been foolish enough to underestimate her quarry, foolish enough to underestimate her prey, and when the Hylian attempted to retreat, when he attempted to flee from the firefight in the tunnels of Astric by escaping through the maintenance corridors, the girl had thought to pursue, thought it was easy, believed that there was sufficient cover in those hallways to diminish the effectiveness of his firearm even if the combat zone was narrow.

But it had been a trap, a trap that would've claimed her life without question had her master not instantly appeared beside her and tackled her to the ground, throwing all of his weight to press her down against the street, shield her body, keeping her protected behind the concrete platform between the street and the door of the maintenance corridor in the same instant that a charge of plastic explosives the Hylian had prepared in that same corridor detonated with so much force, it was questionable as to whether the girl's body would've been found at all had she been caught in the blast, something that would've happened had her master not saved her.

A piece of debris had been jettisoned out from the explosion, a ricocheting piece of sharp metal that cut across her master's shoulder, drawing blood that spilled just a bit onto her own shoulder. It was the only physical indicator that betrayed they had been caught in a trap of any kind, a wound so superficial that her master had not even noticed it until _she_ pointed it out in horror, not out of any fear of a minor cut endangering her master's life, but out of a fear that she had been inadequate for her master's well-being.

The wound wasn't a mark on her body, but she wished it had been. It should've been her who paid for that mistaken. It should've been her who was hurt. It was a harsh reminder of her failure, that she just wasn't good enough.

Still, as she looked at the drops of blood staining the shoulders of her clothes, the girl shyly, hesitantly reached out with her free hand towards it, her fingers eventually pausing and just hovering above the spot, as if the girl feared the mere contact of her touch would tarnish the stain, make the blood disappear. Even as they remained poised a centimeter from her shoulder, remaining there, she was not quite able to suppress a soft, warm blush from creeping over her cheeks.

She wasn't entirely sure what the warm feeling in her chest was, the fluttering in her heart. Some would say the equivalent of her emotions in Interlingua were that of adoration or gratitude, idolization or admiration. But she knew it was none of those words, words that failed to encompass the extent she felt about him, the relationship she had with her master. If there was any word in Interlingua that she would use, it was "_devotion_". The girl was an extension of her master, her master the center of her life, her existence, her purpose. There was nothing else she believed in, nothing that would stop her from obeying his orders and ensuring his safety. If so many of her Gerudo countrywomen believed Dinah to be the final, ultimate core of their being, then hers was undoubtedly her master, his purpose the highest priority, the _only_ priority. The great goddess didn't even factor into her decision-making process. Nothing else did.

Knowing that anything else would not be pragmatic, knowing that there was no way he was going to adequately pursue their target this way, knowing that her master would consider any other course of action unprofessional, the girl decided it was best to cut her losses, and turned to return to where she had left her master much in the same manner in which she came: Fleetingly. Without the burden of having to weave through blocks and streets to look out for possible targets, she traversed the cityscape, returning swiftly to her previous location at the entrance of a tunnel marred by firefights only a handful of minutes later. Valentine reinforcements were in the area, but standing in front of them at the intersection, looking contemplative, both focused and distant, was the familiar form of her master.

One final jump landed her beside her master in the abrupt interruption of a moving blur, and the girl was instantly on a knee beside the large Southern Gerudo mercenary, her head bowed low in humility and self-disgust. "I'm deeply sorry, master." She had never been conditioned to against it, but on her own volition, the girl never said "forgive me". It was not her place to ask for forgiveness, only her place to express regret and shame at her error and failings; forgiveness would be merited by her master on his own initiative when he felt she deserved it. "I could not find our target."

But, like he so often did, her master only spoke to her in a soft, gentle voice – something she did not deserve and filled her with a sense of elated gratitude whenever she heard it, so much that she made conscious attempts to steel herself and maintain a composure worthy of being his slave – tinged only with a strange tone she was not familiar with and couldn't identify. "One day," he declared, "you will have to learn to stop calling me that."

It was worthy of consideration, but it wasn't an order, and, after all these years, the girl did not know what else she could possibly call her master. So, in the end, she bowed her head deeper to express submission, replied, "Yes, master."

Her master looked as if maybe – just _maybe_ – some kind of strange emotion she would not understand would cross his face, but it ultimately didn't happen, and his expression remained stoic, resolute, professional. "The saboteur was with the zorans," he declared, already moving back towards the area outside Astric where Valentine forces had set up a supply depot, adjusting the way one of his assault rifles was slung across his shoulder as he did so. "That narrows down direction and likely destinations he will go to. It's time we commandeered one of their helicopters. Let's go."

Commands were issued, which meant she only needed to obey. This was familiar territory. This was her element. With a newly-charged sense of conviction and determination, the girl swiftly fell into stride right beside and behind him as she confirmed her _devotion_ once more to the older Southern Gerudo mercenary with a strong, "Yes, master."

* * *

They said Kashim was a natural-born rebel.

The reputation he had during his youth in his village in Southern Gerudo was that of a problem child, a troublesome, mischievous imp who had little respect or patience for the time-honored traditions that saw their ancestors through the brutal desert. His father, an ardent traditionalist of the faith who had fought in both the Second Continental War and the Second Southern Civil War, had not taken kindly to the insolence of his son, and left scars that would remain even after Kashim grew out of his childhood. When father demanded that the holy scriptures be read, son flipped through novels instead; when father demanded that home be the immediate destination after school, son sought to play with his friends every afternoon. The household was thrown into a war between the men of the house, a battle waged with insults and threats and ultimatums and canes and whips. But there were some people who would not be cowed or deterred, dissuaded or dismayed. There were some people who kept on the fight, no matter how hopeless the odds, no matter how strong the opposition. The relationship between father and son broke down, but Kashim never once relented.

It was not the rebelliousness that came with puberty, not the rebelliousness that came from the attempt to establish authority as hormones began an assertive change in his masculinity. It was a rebelliousness that came from the need to question all that was unconditionally considered right, the rebelliousness that questioned all forms of pre-established logic. The father looked to the past, Kashim to the future; their difference was irreconcilable, and the son decided early on to make no attempts to connect with his father, no attempts to appease or negotiate. He was the enemy, and would be afforded no mercy or quarter. Kashim did not worry about the possibility that his father may disown him, not because there were no other sons in the family, but because he knew he would survive even if his family no longer fed or clothed or sheltered him. Naturally, at the first possible moment, Kashim left his home for a college education, against the protests of his father that he make himself useful in his hometown. Despite family financial support being withheld, Kashim managed to secure both a small scholarship and a student loan that would guarantee him passage through university so long as he worked part-time.

It was during his third year in university, however, that news eventually came to him: His father had been arrested on the charge of deliberate misuse of government funds, accumulating to accusations of bribery, corruption, and theft. Kashim knew something was wrong: He hated his father, a cruel disciplinarian who tolerated no disagreement or freedom, but the man was not a criminal, and had always been stupidly honest in his own blunt, stubborn way. Custody of his father had gone from provincial to national level too quickly, and details of the case had been withheld even to his legal counsel. In the face of this great injustice and abuse of legal authority by the prosecution, Kashim gathered what support he could from his friends in college and his neighbors from his Southern Gerudo hometown, protesting the charges and detention of his father in the face of a hungry international media. Having little in the way of funds beyond what supported his student life, he fought for donations from every sympathetic soul possible.

For the first time ever, Kashim found himself fighting for his father.

But the fight would be short-lived. Merely a month after his father was arrested, word came down that his father had died in his jail cell. The coroners ruled suicide, the official investigators agreed, and the case was closed with no explanation, no reparation, no justice. Kashim's mother committed suicide in shame one week after.

It was then that Kashim realized just how colossally his country had failed him.

Encouraged by the friends who had stood by and supported him in the legal fight for his father, Kashim joined the conservatives in Southern Gerudo. He had never fully endorsed the view held by many of the radicals, that Southern Gerudo should become its own theological state independent from Gerudo itself, siding instead with the moderates who wanted less central power and more regional governance just as things used to be. He attended demonstrations, protests, even riots against the authority of the central government, which had begun to tighten its grip in the aftermath of the disastrous Mura Siege, the rallying cry of Southern Gerudo extremists, radicals, and secessionists everywhere.

Gradually, however, the cauldron boiled over as both sides fueled the flames, and the military, directed by the Military Intelligence Coordination Office, began an extensive suppression campaign throughout Southern Gerudo, resulting in actions that Kashim found to be unforgivable transgressions on the rights of his people. Just as the military was escalating the rules of engagement for the war, Kashim – who had previously been adverse to the idea of violence – decided that the only way for their voices to be heard and recognized was to respond in kind. He could not sit idly by while his friends were dragged away and beaten in detention cells and interrogation rooms, sometimes to the death. Kashim decided he wanted to be more than just a "rebel"; he wanted to be a freedom fighter.

Like so many other young men, Kashim found his way into the militia groups that were forming throughout Southern Gerudo in response to the Garuda-led crackdowns. Entry was of little problem, for Kashim's televised battle for his father's legal innocence had made him something of a celebrity, and there were no shortage of rebel leaders hoping to capitalize on such a public relations opportunity. But sharper eyes belonging to the former veterans of both the Second Continental War and the Second Southern Gerudo Civil War – the ones who had escaped the purge of Garuda loyalists following the second conflict – saw in Kashim the potential for being more than just a poster boy.

And so these men, these hardened men, these ruthless men turned Kashim into a weapon of war. The young man, the boy who had once been a rebel, learned to seek comfort in the presence of assault rifles, bayonets, bombs, grenades. He could hit a moving target with a sniper rifle from hundreds of meters away, knew how to construct an improvised explosive device from the scarcest of supplies, make even the most hardened of men spill secrets with nothing but a nail. Kashim was a natural as a guerilla, becoming an elusive shadow of destruction, a weapon that would unleash infuriating destruction upon his MICO-led foes before disappearing just as quickly.

But Kashim was still a man before he was a weapon, and men fall in love. His love was a pretty, raven-haired woman by the name of Shana, a small, petite thing that looked as delicate as glass, threatening to fall apart if one so much as touched her. There were many obstacles, foremost among them being that Kashim _didn't_ want to love her. She was a religious woman holding – even if only moderately – same kind of values that created the rift between him and his father. She was pacifist who sympathized with his plight, but dismissed the actions of him and his comrades as the angry and hurt lashing out without moral high ground or absolution. But, perhaps more importantly, Kashim was aware of what the central government – desperate for order in chaos and becoming increasingly heavy-handed – did to the families and loved ones of identified insurgents. The rational side of him knew that he and Shana would never be, _should_ never be. But the passionate side of him eventually won out, rebelling against reason, and he took Shana as his wife years later. In return, she bore him a single daughter, whom they named Aisha, having the mother's black hair and the father's green eyes.

For several years, Kashim led what amounted to a family life. Hostilities between Garuda and conservative radicals were dying down as a shift in policy indicated at possible compromise. People began to hold out on the hope that the long campaign of guerilla warfare and terrorism would finally come to an end. Guerillas like Kashim looked towards the not-so-distant ray of light that there would finally be reconciliation for their cause. But after months of delayed negotiations eventually fell through, impatience and indignation became the order of the day, and the fighting renewed with greater intensity, the guerillas interpreting the government's attempt to negotiate as a sign of weakening influence and power, and deciding to exploit this chance. Old alliances and obligations were called in by old friends and old comrades, and Kashim left his wife once more, having only the promise that she would faithfully wait for him at home, on a long, daunting campaign that moved away from guerilla warfare, edging closer to a strange combination of brutal conventional warfare, holy war, and terrorism, a conflict that would eventually become known as the Five Year War.

Kashim began to wonder if this honestly was a cause worth fighting for. But even as he wondered, he continue to fight, perhaps out of obligation, perhaps out of duty, perhaps out of not wanting to let down the men who fought and died by his side. Or perhaps he began to realize that war and strife fulfilled him, that it was something he excelled in, that it made him complete. Aside from his wife and daughter, it was really all that he had.

And then Shana died.

Kashim did not even know when it happened. No one really bothered to tell him; his neighbors didn't know how to reach a man who fought somewhere on an unofficial frontline against Garuda, and his friends were about as far removed from home as he was. His fight had been years-long, and when he finally returned home, his family was gone. Shana had been injured in a car accident, but her easily-treatable wounds had turned fatal when a "doctor" who practiced only because he had connections with the elite of Southern Gerudo performed a faulty operation while drunk. Their daughter, a young child then, had been given to an orphanage somewhere, but no one seemed to know exactly where.

Kashim did not go look for his daughter, his Aisha. He was never sure why. The only logical explanation he could provide was that he was devastated at the time, that he felt cold and numb and unfeeling, that he thought – at that point – anyone else could provide for her better than he could. With his future uncertain, he found solace only in the familiar arms of conflict, returning to the front and spreading death wherever he went. It was only with war that Kashim felt safe, that the things he cherished did not fall apart.

It was by complete accident that Kashim found his daughter once more. The extended conflict had saw a rise in the recruitment of children, most of them in their secondary school education but some of them having yet finished primary school, fighting on the side of the guerillas. Kashim had long known of the recruitment of child soldiers and disagreed with it on a fundamental level, knowing how easily the situation could be exploited, but considered it ultimately to be an acceptable practice he could turn a blind eye to. After all, he had fought alongside some young freedom fighters who were clearly here by choice, who had decided to be children no more in an effort to save the values that they cherished. Even if Kashim thought they were too young, he did not find it in himself to deny these young boys and girls of the values they cherished enough to put their lives out on the line for. But when he found Aisha, he discovered the darker secrets of his cause, that – in their losing war against the northern government – they had begun to abduct children and brainwash them into natural, unflinching killers. It wasn't even devotion to the holy Dinah or anything to do with faith; rather, the children were all psychologically programmed, consciously and unconsciously, with a need to identify and serve a master to imprint on them. Kashim had no idea how – he was a guerilla, not a scientist or psychologist or propagandist – but elements within the southern rebels managed to do it.

To his daughter.

To his Aisha.

It was then Kashim realized just how colossally his cause had failed him.

He went on a rampage. He killed everyone responsible, everyone related, everyone who had a hand in the desecration of his daughter's mind, until only he and Aisha remained, until he was the only one his own daughter could imprint on and recognize as master. Kashim vowed he would not leave his daughter in anyone else's care again, that he would raise her himself, love her as a father. But that which he had feared – the same reason he had initially decided to leave Aisha to whomever would care for her after Shana's passing – was still painfully obvious: Kashim didn't know the first thing about parenting. His own father had been an utter disaster, and Kashim never did have much experience with handling Aisha, having allowed Shana to do the majority of the nurturing instead. In fact, the only things he had been familiar with in the last one and a half decades were war and conflict, something he did not feel should be passed onto the next generation, least of all his own daughter, who continued to follow and obey him with slavish obedience instead of daughterly love.

Kashim was stuck between two hard choices: He wanted to be the father he had not been to Aisha and never abandon her again, but the only way he could raise his daughter was self-destructive to Aisha.

He eventually chose the latter.

Abandoning his friends, his comrades, his cause, Kashim dove headfirst into the task of training his daughter, leaving room for no other consideration. It wasn't so much that he wanted her to follow in his footsteps as much as it was that he wanted her _close_. Softer men with softer lives may have asked why the Gerudo man did not just step away from it all, settle down and live a life of peace and tranquility with his daughter, but softer men did not understand the harsh lives people like Kashim had gone through, what happens to a man they lived most of their life fighting and fighting and fighting, what happens to a man when they look over the edge and found themselves despondent with what they saw. They didn't understand, _couldn't_ understand. For so many people, one couldn't just back out on and walk away.

Aisha was fast, her body built like a cat, and so Kashim taught her how to use knives and blades of all kinds, from combat knives to pocket knives to switchblades to butterfly knives to kitchen knives to cake knives, all of which turned into a lethal instrument of death once in her hands. She was good with firearms, but much better with a blade, becoming extremely proficient with the kukri, and preferring a deeper angle to the curve of the weapon to allow for powerful, deceptive attacks that compensated for her relatively small build and therefore weaker physical power. One thing led to another where training was concerned, and the kukri became a returning weapon, a boomerang that could return after slicing through all victims unfortunate enough in its way. When Kashim's contacts managed to steal an entire Gerudo air force package when flight manuals and several aerial combat simulators in a heist, he had Aisha learn how to operate aircraft as well, knowing that they may one day need their own air options. The process was simple, guided by Aisha's ingrained need to obey and satisfy, her familiarity with hardship, her disengagement from any real sense of morality via prior psychological conditioning. Even before Kashim had found her again, his daughter had killed remorselessly for her Southern Gerudo handlers in many bloody battles of the Five Year War, and would easily do so once more. It took Kashim mere months to have her be beside him in mercenary operations that he soon contracted himself to, knowing that, from those days on, he would be fighting and killing for himself and Aisha, and no one else.

Kashim contemplated this. He contemplated all this, even as he stood at the intersection of ruined streets right outside one end of the tunnel that was now littered with the bodies of Valentine soldiers and zoran aggressors, but lacked the body of a Hylian Joint Intelligence agent dressed as a Valentine special forces officer. He contemplated all this as a blur shot down and landed by his side, rematerializing in the body of his daughter who knelt with her head bowed low before saying with subdued anger and pain, both directed at herself for having failed, "I'm deeply sorry, master. I could not find our target."

The large Southern Gerudo mercenary regarded Aisha slowly, carefully, expressionlessly. "One day," he replied, the practiced words coming out of his mouth soft with both tenderness and resignation, "you will have to learn to stop calling me that."

And, as always, Aisha bowed her head even further, simply replied, "Yes, master."

It was not the first time, and it was likely that it would never be the last time, but…

"The saboteur was with the zorans," Kashim rumbled, already moving towards the local Valentine depot. "That narrows down direction and likely destinations he will go to. It's time we commandeered one of their helicopters. Let's go."

…As he watched his daughter, a coiled spring of lethal intent with a literal need to be enslaved, a girl resembling the pacifist Shana so much that Kashim couldn't help but feel all of it to be a great, cosmic joke…

Aisha gave a curt, submissive bow of her head, uttered "yes, master" reverently, fell into step just beside and slightly behind Kashim.

…As he contemplated that the girl he had produced with Shana – a girl who could've epitomized endless brilliant possibilities, endless happy futures – was now a remorseless, ruthless killing machine wrought by both the hands of those Kashim had killed and the hands that were his own, a girl who would likely eventually find an early grave because of what she was and what she did…

Watching the Southern Gerudo mercenaries pass, the Valentine soldiers – knowing full well that they operated under 1st SIU authority and thereby the authority of the National Defense Committee, and having seen exactly what it was these two could do – silently parted in the streets, clearing a path for the two, with apprehensive, cautious stares, carefully watching a big man with enough weapons to fight the Third Continental War and the small girl with a jarringly large boomerang-kukri on her back.

…As he regretted that Aisha did not so much as love him as a daughter as much as she was devoted to him, and would likely never call him "father" or "papa" instead of "master" – not because she wouldn't do so but because she wouldn't understand what it meant – unless he did something as _meaningless_ as _order_ her to…

…It was then that Kashim realized just how colossally he had failed his daughter, how colossally he had failed his Aisha.

* * *

**Exoria File #025  
Religion**

Religion on the continent has largely been a straightforward affair. While there is evidence to suggest that there had been a great myriad of prehistoric belief systems, historians generally agree that the fundamentals of modern demographics concerning faith were largely established somewhere during the fifth to seventh centuries. The oldest surviving religion is the Gerudo faith to the goddess Dinah, which had records going as far back as the third century, but became influential during the fifth century before the Righteous Tyrant unified the Gerudo tribes in the seventh century and declared Dinah the official patron goddess to the country. This is by far the most prevalent religion in the Gerudo Union, and although freedom of worship is protected, Dinah's influences are an inseparable part from Gerudo daily life, especially since many of its tenets, such as polygamy, are made in consideration of Gerudo's remarkably gender discrepancy. A vague, polytheist faith thrived in Valent with the signing of the Treaty of Gatewall in the 515 a.s.r., where the political leaders of the Original Cities of modern-day Valent conspired to "mingle" belief systems amongst the alliance that would form the modern state of Valent, the measure enacted to strengthen their union. This ultimately resulted in a religion where the gods themselves were unnamed, conceptual beings, referred to with simple names such as "Goddess of the Hunt" or "Lord of the Harvest". This faith was popular with the old aristocracy, but even before the Valentine Revolution, it was on a steady decline as an increasing Valentine demographic turned secular. Due to Valent's intensely isolationist policy, an accurate census on its religious beliefs cannot be ascertained. A relatively new faith system has spread from Hyrule, based off the belief of Dinah but focused instead on a deity known simply as God. This faith system, claimed to have been established during the adoption of the a.s.r. calendar but generally agreed on by historians to have been established somewhere in the seventh or eighth century is remarkably similar to the belief in Dinah that the Gerudo have, but the deity is considered to be male, and many fundamental differences are present due to Hyrule being much more balanced in gender. What is remarkable about this religion is that it has a greater cross-border influence than the other traditional religions on the continent; although its roots are in Hyrule, there is a notable number of native Gerudo and Valentine citizens who share this religion. Also from Hyrule is a very young belief system that is a hybridized version of the continent's religions, and resembles more of a philosophy than an actual religion. At the dawn of the fifteenth century, the vague notion that the divine exists but that there were no universal tenets or fundamentals, or immediately identifiable or understandable deities that came with more conservative religions in Hyrule and Gerudo found popularity with an increasing amount of agnostic theists, enjoying more cross-border proportionately. This belief system simply comes with the understanding that all living beings are ultimately accountable by vague divine being or beings that can be called "god" or "goddess" in singular or plural terms, and has few other tenets. Although it is by far the belief system with the smallest demographic, sometimes seen as a ridiculous fringe faith, it has received a tremendous boost in popularity in recent years after then-Princess Zelda revealed herself to be a believer in 1503 a.s.r.

* * *

Author's Note: "Boomerang-kukri girl" finally has a name. And the chapters really need to get shorter for a little bit.

Sorry about the late update. It's been a pretty rough month – work in South Korea, a surgical operation on my foot, plenty of all-nighters, that kind of thing – so I haven't had as much time to work on _Exoria_ as I would've liked. That, and writer's block. And, you know, insecurities, complexes, and the general feeling of dissatisfaction. And, you know, _Modern Warfare 3_ and _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_.

…I'm just digging my grave even deeper, aren't I?

November is one of those funny months. I roleplay very extensively – it's been my primary hobby aside from gaming, anime-watching, manga-reading, and (of course) writing over the past few years – so most of my life is concentrated online as opposed to offline (for various actual reasons which I won't bore you with unless you're actually interested). November, however, happens to be in the middle of the school year for several countries, so there's your usual mid-terms and exams and sudden homework loads. This November also has been a month of depressions and frustrations amongst friends seriously dissatisfied with their life. And November is National Novel Writing Month, which means most of my roleplaying friends are busy with that instead of getting me replies.

Disclaimer: Having participated in NaNo before (and not having once completed it), I am fond of the event, and by no means am I complaining about it or being spiteful. I'm just observing how it has managed to slow down a rather serious hobby of mine. Please, for all those who are participating: Keep going fast and hard. Fifty thousand words is waiting for you at the end of the month. That's only less than twenty percent of _Exoria_'s current word count, so I'm sure you can make it.

Okay, just to address a single review here.

Nynevi: _Okay, now I just must ask. WHEN THE EXPLETIVE DO WE GET TO SEE A MAP! I know you said that you wouldn't give us a map because it'd reveal too much, but you already know what the continent looks like. I assumed that Gerudo was more or less in the southeast or southwest area of the continent, with Valent in the northwest or northeast and Hyrule being kind of off to the side. But the part where Link is on a Gerudo boat going to Hylian land shatters this. So I reiterate: I'd just like a simple map. Just want a big blob-like shape for the continent divided into some colored circles for the countries and a little dot or two with labels on them, if that. Pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaase?_

Gerudo is to the southeast; Link's path was a rather roundabout mix of aerial and naval transportation made to make the stealthiest insertion possible. I probably will make a map at some point, but that honestly depends on how hardworking I really intend to be and how much time I actually have…which probably isn't saying very much. There'll eventually be something, though. Hopefully.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Five

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

In hindsight, commandeering a transport helicopter based in Astric had almost been a comical affair if one understood context.

Knowing that her target had escaped, Alexandria decided that the next best thing was to give pursuit. Her understanding of zoran strategic doctrine – if they even had one – was virtually nonexistent, however, a shortcoming Juno was likely to share, so Alexandria decided that it was probably just best to heard north for now, the only direction that was logically expedient. After all, with the ocean and Jormungand to the north, it wasn't as if these saboteurs had other options available to them.

She did what she could to avoid local forces before eventually managing to flag down a transport helicopter and turn it north, knowing they were under Juno's control; Alexandria preferred working alone in military intelligence, and mutual experience taught her that the _other_ female major of the 1st Special Investigative Unit would likely do whatever was in her power to hinder Alexandria's progress. Given that the entire supply outpost in Astric had its authority commandeered by Juno before Alexandria had even arrived, it was unlikely the former would let the latter have a free hand in such matters. It was nothing that National Defense Committee authority couldn't handle – orders to transport her north while going into radio silence and not reporting into anyone until they dropped her off. While it was difficult to say whether Juno would notice that one of her transport helicopters had suddenly gone missing, the irony was not lost on Alexandria: Two feuding officers using the exact same authority to one-up one another.

The Valentine Revolution had hardly fixed all the problems of the previous administrations after the Second Continental War in one go, and families – including those Juno grew up with – suffered from it. Maybe that was the source of her ambition, the reason why she was so at home with military intelligence, clandestine operations, secrets. There was an acceptance of and need to accomplishing one's goals, regardless of cost…especially the cost to others. _Proletariat thinking_, Alexandria mused. The near-irrational disdain Juno had towards her rival – bordering on hatred, the reasons for which Alexandria was well-aware of – probably would've incurred more of Alexandria's sympathy had it not also translated to the kind of chickenshit that prevented the job from getting done.

The helicopter had just cleared Astric as the skies turned dark when Alexandria finally made a call from the rear seats of the helicopter back to Velvet. Within seconds, she was connected with a specific officer in Valentine military intelligence. "Second Lieutenant Erich," the caller announced through the connection in what almost sounded like a deeply nasal tone; natural health defects of the respiratory system since childhood had prevented him from pursuing any military career on the frontlines for army, air force, or navy, so Erich did the next best thing, and used his considerable skills at electronics to run support for military intelligence. He was a bit eccentric at times, but fast, efficient, professional, and had long become invested in the idea that questions in his field were more likely to terrorize him than satisfy his curiosity, so he never asked.

"It's Alexandria." The major had to be shout above the interior noise of the helicopter – the spinning or rotors and the great humming of its engines – to be heard. "Do we have any databases that records the number of trained Valentine gunsword users over the last half century?"

"One of the royal archives probably has something," Erich responded crisply, almost off-handedly; he had been running proxy data management for years, and while he didn't know _everything_ within the digitally recorded information of Valent's computer systems, he generally always had a very good idea of where to look, making him valuable for intelligence operations and a frequent liaison of other departments seeking archived information on the fly. "We don't have a direct line to that database, though, and I'll have to find out which one specifically. It'll take me a bit to get an approval for access, even under your authority, bureaucracy and paperwork and all." Fingers swiftly tapped away at the keyboard on the other side of the call. "Do you want me to just send data over, or get you a direct connection to the database via Magi?"

"It would be helpful if you could compile the information first." Alexandria agreed.

"Anyone I'm looking for specifically?"

"All military-trained Valentine gunsword users within the last fifty years, but priority should be given to defectors, individuals listed as MIA, maybe KIA just in case there's a bit of cloak-and-dagger I'm not aware of, or just someone who was recorded as having trained a non-Valentine in gunswords."

A pause, then the continuation of rapid-fire typing on the keyboard. "Random," murmured the second lieutenant, although that certainly didn't stop him from continuing with his work. He was curious enough to ask something…although not necessarily a question in its most conventional form. "Confirming: You _do_ realize we're fighting a war, yes?" This inquiry didn't sound to have anything to do with the current war effort, and Alexandria knew it.

"It's related to the 1st SIU," the major stated plainly. She wasn't lying. The Hylian infiltrator had been a formidable foe, and now she understood that the gunsword he wielded wasn't just there for the purposes of a disguise; he knew how to use it with skill and finesse. Perhaps nationalistic arrogance factored into her logic, but Alexandria found it almost puzzling that someone not of Valentine origin would possess that kind of capability. Or perhaps it was logical without bias, for – after all – Valent was home to the gunsword since the days of Grand Duchess Sieglinde, and it was only natural that a working theory was that _someone_ trained this Joint Intelligence agent…someone from Valent. But the agent was young, his training definitely having occurred _after_ the Valentine Revolution, during a period of time where Valent established an unshakable isolationist policy in preparation for this very war. Logically, there shouldn't have been anyone from her country that could've trained anyone to be _this_ skilled in the gunsword without the government and the military knowing about it.

Regardless, this line of thought would hopefully lead to a very short list that the major could work off of…a list that would hopefully ultimately refer to the Hylian infiltrator they were all looking for. As a soldier, the major did not look forward to have to dealing with him again. As a warrior, however…

She did not share all of this with Erich, but Alexandria thought she could hear him click his tongue in quiet understanding. "I'll get right on it," he snipped.

* * *

Huntington Manor bristled with oppressed activity. Zelda had not expected otherwise, and knew that appearances were being kept for her sake, but the sense of bleakness and fatigue and hopelessness even amongst the command staff could not be missed, and that excluded the late nights when her Highness sneaked out of the manor – the guard at the rear door had been persuaded into keeping Zelda's little "escapes" as secret – and into the streets, where she eavesdropped on the dismayed conversations of the enlisted making nightly rounds around what they considered to be a doomed battlefield.

That, the princess understood. She didn't blame them. In fact, she was amazed that they were staying, if only because they knew the enemy was coming, that the enemy had attacked their homeland, that many of their comrades and friends were butchered by their hands. She did not know if national survival crossed the minds of the combatants, but the soldiers understood vengeance for comrades and family and friends, if even _that_ was merely a footnote in their mind now. Zelda found base vengeance the source of their motivation lamentable, but admirable nonetheless. Oaths only carried them so far when the country had let them down. When _she_ had let them down.

Her parents, her mentors, her tutors had all taught her that there was a fine balance between feeling responsible for the fate of her country and wallowing in self-pity over misplaced guilt. But Zelda had little care about those sentiments when her fingers had cringed tightly onto the surface of the table in a private room where Major General Morgan had vacated for her where she could view the "official" records of the ongoing war, incomplete but ultimately revealing and enlightening records cataloging the Hylian war effort that seemed doomed from the very beginning.

Morgan had laid things upon her gently upon her arrival to New Wagner, even if the information had been bleak nonetheless. Even with the nationwide ECM, sporadic bursts of contact and other methods of communications had confirmed practically universal defeats across all of Hyrule. Only nine military bases – including airports and naval ports – had statuses that were unconfirmed, which Zelda inwardly knew was simply a defeat with no living eyewitnesses present to report it; every other military installation hosted a confirmed defeat for defending Hylian forces. There had been no victories at all, and even the facilities being used in New Wagner and Charlotte were civilian ones being repurposed for military pursuits. Units falling back and maintaining radio contact had their escape paths labeled on maps, so many arrows across a strategic map that eventually winked out of existence as they were systematically located and eradicated by the enemy, leaving only a small handful reaching the East Coast, a pitiful few arrows actually reaching New Wagner, Fort Regner, and Charlotte. Even the bastion at Fort Regner was now gone, what survivors from the 107th there had been having linked up with the ailing defense in New Wagner.

Words conveyed from a sympathetic, understanding major general on a humvee were one thing. Seeing all these documents, envisioning the great deterioration in her mind, looking at all the data and all the representation…they could not possibly do their actual losses justice, but the overwhelming feeling of dismay and hopelessness far exceeded whatever Major General Morgan could've told her, and before she even knew it, Zelda had sunk to her knees, a hand tightly grasping her mouth in an attempt to hold back and silence choked sobs that had been brought about by a subconscious understanding that no one would see their cool, unperturbed queen break down in the privacy behind closed doors.

Was this her failing? Had she done something wrong along the way? Had there been anything she could've reasonably done – anything at all – to have prevented this unprecedented disaster? Even the leaders of the Second Continental War, a brutal, chaotic, three-way free-for-all amongst the continent's nations, had managed to keep the battles fought near the borders, keeping the inner cities safe from all but long-range strategic weapons, artillery strikes, nighttime bomber raids. What would they say today, seeing a great nation crumbling upon the shoulders of an eighteen-year-old crown princess?

"Your Highness."

Those words brought Zelda out of her reverie and back to reality. Once more, she was standing in the living room that had been converted into the operations center for the entire defense of New Wagner, not kneeling on the ground of the private room they had reserved for the princess to view reports in peace. She was surrounded by officers working at their desks and making occasional updates to the situation, not alone with only her sorrows and insecurities to accompany her. Major General Morgan was addressing her now from the side, and despite her reverie tugging at her incessantly, trying to pull her back into a cocoon of blankness that would've made an immeasurably more preferable alternative to facing the reality of their crisis, Zelda summoned the willpower to turn to the young general gracefully, provide a nod to indicate that she was listening with undivided attention.

The general's voice had been low, and he made no effort to raise it when he continued, "There is a matter of importance I wish to discuss with you privately."

Discretion, then. "Very well," Zelda acknowledged.

"This way, please," Morgan calmly led the crown princess out one of the living room doors, one that led to the parlor, past it down another hallway to one of the many quiet, unoccupied rooms that Huntington Manor had to offer.

If there was one particular regret Zelda had about coming to New Wagner, it was that she had virtually nothing to do. Everything she had done with Impa and Leonore in Fort Garuda – all the electronic surveillance, the data-recording, the analysis, everything – was now all done by an entire staff of military officers who seemed to wish the crown princess could just stay in her room and get some rest. None of them – and certainly not Morgan – actively excluded her from the process, of course, and respectfully accommodated her whenever she demanded to be involved, but aside from the mandatory status updates and situation reports, they seemed content in simply keeping Zelda on a need-to-know basis. They meant well; that alone the princess knew. They wished for the only remaining active member of the royal family to be well, to be rested. But despite their kind intentions, she wanted something to do instead of just lying there in bed. Something, _anything_ to take her mind off a festering sense of guilt – misplaced or otherwise – that was tearing at her.

Zelda wished someone was here to ease her worries. She didn't want to reserved, respectful professionalism of Morgan, the insightful, witty analyses of Leonore, the wise, matronly familiarity of Impa. She wanted something base, someone to simply be _there_, silent, accepting. Someone who wouldn't try to tell her what she needed to do, what was right, what was at stake. She needed these people, of course, but – if only for a moment – she didn't want to be crown princess, commander-in-chief, national sovereign. If only for a moment, she wanted to be a person who could wish for the simple comforts beyond the reach of a country's leadership.

_I wish for what any man or woman would wish for when the pressure threatens to break them_, the princess thought, barely managing to follow Morgan as she remained distracted by such thoughts. _It is unfair, but it is so. What no man or woman should deserve is mine by birthright. Such is the way things are_.

It was past the grand hall and into another corridor that Zelda was guided, into a room that looked like a meeting room; occasionally it functioned as a staff conference room, but it also doubled as a storage room for documents and weapons. The crown princess found herself mildly uncomfortable to be surrounded by so many instruments of war, from rifles to machine guns to grenades, but she held her composure even as Morgan closed the door behind them, gesturing for the princess to take a seat before he did so himself. On the table before them was a small pile of documents; they were handwritten, but with only a glimpse, Zelda noted that they looked remarkably similar to career service vitaes, or perhaps dossiers for various officers and soldiers. They appeared to be the subject of conversation, for Morgan quickly rotated the documents around for Zelda to read properly, sliding them across the table right in front of the crown princess.

"At the moment," he breathed, sounding like a mix between a murmur and a sigh as he shifted his weight in his seat, almost slumping against it, "as major general, I am the ranking officer in New Wagner. However, I am of the belief that better candidates can be found for the position under our current circumstances." He shuffled around the documents, spread them apart while placing several of them at the very top as if to emphasize the profiles of certain officers. "The highest ranking officer after myself is Colonel Wayne, but there's a good selection of other officers – majors, captains – who could use the promotion to at least give orders with a decent amount of authority around here."

It took Zelda several moments to blink and formulated a response, but she had understood the deeper implications of Morgan's statement almost instantly. "General," she uttered, her voice almost aghast, disbelieving, startled at what she was hearing the commander of the New Wagner defense say. "Are you trying to step _down_?"

Morgan did not look away, but a slight but ultimately visible deflation of both his posture and composure, and his refusal to verbally respond to that question told all.

"Denied." A strangely hot but volatile air began to rise up in Zelda, a lividness and fury accumulated through two highly stressful weeks finally beginning to rise up from where she had suppressed them, an unshakable anger that caused her voice to tremble with barely suppressed rage that was held back only by a lifelong habit of keeping such flares of emotion and temper in check. Her earlier woes forgotten, a sense of dignity powered that ire, and Zelda almost rose to her feet. That strange, alien pressure pushed up to her throat, made it difficult for her to breathe or not to raise her voice. Somehow, miraculously, she managed. "I am _appalled_ you would even make such a suggestion."

"It's a pragmatic suggestion, your Highness," replied the major general quietly; if he was terrified of the outbreak of ire from his liege, he did not show it.

Under better circumstances, Zelda would've known better. Or perhaps she already did know better, but she no longer cared quite as strongly about etiquette. "Or are you trying to wiggle out of the responsibility for the likelihood that we will be defeated here in New Wagner and Charlotte?" she demanded hotly.

Rather than seem offended, rather than looking defensive, every bit of Morgan's body language betrayed the fact that he was just exhausted and tired, weary and haggard. "Your Highness," he spoke, the honorific not actually attached to his sentence as much as it was a term stated for the purpose of protocol. "My rank of major general is exactly that, a rank, not a measure of battlefield experience. I'm an administrator for electronic warfare; I've always been so, starting my career as a specialist. I've never been involved with combat ops, never had combat training save Basic. You have a myriad of officers out there who have already fought the enemy, who know how to lead the men. They'll be a lot more effective and command a lot more respect than 'the major general from OLRER'."

For a moment, all anger and indignity and righteousness aside, Zelda was suddenly stricken by the fact of how _old _and _tired_ Morgan seemed. Even without the bandages that attempted to hide scars inflicted by Valentine bombers, lines across his face and bags under his eyes – as well as darkened eyes and somber expressions – highlighted just how exhausted and drained he was. His uniform had been cleaned and freshly-pressed – undoubtedly a luxury that was tolerated largely because the princess was now here so presentation and appearances were important – but the clothes were a stark contrast to a man who looked like he was ready to keel over. The humor and spark in his eyes were gone, a façade maintained only out of willpower. And why wouldn't it? Morgan wasn't a soldier, but a military technology officer. He didn't sign on to fight the enemy like this, to be shot and have bombs thrown at him and watch cities burning under great pillars of smoke against the horizon. Zelda wasn't even sure how the major general managed to be the commanding officer who survived long enough to become the ranking officer in New Wagner.

But, in a moment of what Zelda was convinced was utter selfishness, she didn't care about all that right now. "How did you command everyone in New Wagner for so long, then?" she demanded.

"It wasn't long, your Highness. There…" his lips tightened into a taut line before finishing, "…_had_ been other members of the brass before me."

"But you _did_ command them eventually."

To that, Morgan can only give a shrug; he almost looked like he was ready to break into a sad, bittersweet, cursed smile, one that would've seemed strangely out-of-place and self-pitying and self-loathing, but somehow appropriate. "I was the only one left."

"You're still the only one left."

Stretching himself, readjusting himself to pull himself up in his seat, Morgan sighed – he didn't bother suppressing it this time, as was his custom when he had to deal with the kind of ignorance he often faced with the rest of the Ministry of Defense – and grimaced. Undoubtedly, he was beginning to sense the quiet, subtle ironies and slights of a major general of his age being reprimanded by a young, inexperienced eighteen-year-old crown princess who remained untested, and was not producing results in her trial by fire. The major general knew that was an unfair measure by which to judge her, of course – the deck had been stacked against her from the very beginning, and Morgan doubted _he_ could've done anything about this had _he_ been in charge – but this was one moment where frustration was beginning to take hold against better judgment. "Your Highness," he tried again, his voice tighter this time, "I became a specialist because I had enlisted with conscientious objector status. My knowledge of using infantry weapons starts and ends with a pistol sidearm on the firing range, and the last time I went was four years ago. The best thing I can tell you about the firefight is to not be on the other end of where the barrels are pointing at. Everyone else here can tell you about that given the last couple of weeks we've been through. The only real war story I can tell you is that some Valentine bomber tried to kill me but missed." The major general scratched the bandages that covered half his face at that; Zelda didn't know if it was the itch that we getting to him or the need to emphasis the fact. "You don't need an armchair general."

Pressing her lips tightly together, Zelda rose from where she sat, then quickly extended an arm to motion for Morgan to remain seated as he began to shift his weight forward in his seat. "I need someone I can trust," she amended, placing both hands on the table and leaning forward towards the major general. "I trust _you_, Morgan, although you're testing that right now."

Seeing as to how he was not to stand, Morgan resignedly resorted to pulling his uniform taut and sitting even straighter in his chair, murmuring, "Then you must forgive me for testing it further."

Preventing herself from frowning, the princess stopped for a moment, realizing that the general was staying his course. There would need to be another approach by which to persuade him, another line of logic and reasoning. "Have you observed the men under your command?" she asked.

The silent tilt of his head and the accompanying frown betrayed Morgan's confusion.

"The enlisted, general," Zelda elaborated. "Have you talked with them? Listened to them talk to each other?"

It took him a moment, but when he came upon the realization, Morgan chose to address the implications before actually answering the question…possibly because he did not want to answer the question. "Your Highness," he leaned forward, pressing his fingers together before him as he tried to seem both reasonable and stern, "I must advise against you leaving Huntington Manor without an escort in such times…"

"You're not answering the question, general," Zelda interrupted, her voice hard, uncompromising.

Morgan regarded his command-in-chief for several seconds before deciding that she was not one easily to be put off from this discussion, and that there was no avoiding it. "They're soldiers, your Highness," he allowed, vaguely.

It wasn't the answer Zelda was looking for. "Have you _listened_ to them?"

"They're exhausted, your Highness."

"But they'll still fight," the crown princess reaffirmed.

The shoulders of a Hylian military uniform rose as quickly as they dropped. "Duty motivates them."

"No, general," Zelda shook her head coldly, and it was here that she straightened once more to her full stature, unimpressive when compared to Morgan in height, but powerful in symbolism. "_Vengeance_ motivates them. Self-destructive _anger_ motivates them, compels them to do what they do not imagine they would otherwise do. I've heard them talk, heard them swear that they will do unto the enemy…"

"That's just talk, your Highness." The major general actually had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to muster the kind of patience to make that statement without coming over as condescending or reprimanding; there was a shudder across Morgan's body as the breath was expelled, and – for just a moment – an uncomfortable image came across Zelda's mind, a small, worn-down building with flimsy walls trembling in the wind. "Soldiers talk like that; _men_ talk like that."

The cold smile Zelda provided was mirthless. "I know _talk_ when I hear it, general," she stated coolly, but the chill in her tone was unmistakable. "I have not led this nation and braved its politics by not knowing how men _talk_. I'm not _just_ some young heir ruling the nation because her father's not here." Her gaze momentarily turned hard as it bore against the major general with a glare. "But that's what you're thinking, aren't you?"

It was here that Morgan, stiffening, finally looked offended, defensive, at the accusation. "I was not…" he began.

"General," the princess cut off coldly, and – for a moment – Morgan realized that perhaps Zelda inherited more from her mother's side of the family than she did her father's side after all, that cold, sharp, no-bullshit attitude many of their members shared. "I've gotten the same look from ministers, generals, senators, and lobbyists hundreds and hundreds of times. I can tell, no matter how subtly you try to mask it."

Whether because he was caught off-guard or out of indignity, Morgan remained passively silent, seemingly accepting that he would – as a good soldier would – simply take the heat from the superior and live with it, although his intakes of breath were markedly deeper than before. And, for some reason, seeing Morgan mildly emotional as opposed to his quiet, defeatist attitude helped quell Zelda's own anger some, helped her calm and become cooler, more rational. Something about how much more Morgan seemed _human_ this way dispelled most of the previous ire, rage, anger, and wrath at the suggestion that the major general would step down for "everybody's good".

"When the cards and down and the enemy comes in and they begin to tear us apart," Zelda continued, and her voice was soft, quiet, almost tired, "there will be men who will fight to their last because it is what is expected of them, and there will be men who will fight to their last because they wish to inflict vengeance unto the enemy, and there will be men who will fight to their last because everyone else is doing so. Garuda has promised the cavalry, but our navy is the only real shield we have left until then. If Jormungand destroys it at the speed in which it has been doing so, I don't think we'll see reinforcements coming over the hill in time." There was only so much they could expect from their Gerudo allies; it was a long way through occupied territory between them and the Hylian-Gerudo border, and that wasn't even accounting for the fact that its western MLR was still under siege, necessitating westward deployment that precluded a northern offensive anytime soon. "If it comes to that, and if…" it was here that Zelda took a deep breath, not sure how she was to form it into words in front of someone else, but accepting that very possible reality nevertheless long before such words crossed her lips, "…and if I'm no longer here, I have faith that you have the temperance, compassion, and wisdom to surrender to Valentine forces."

Morgan blinked, earlier indignation forgotten; he almost looked a bit startled. "Your Highness…" he began.

"I've seen the reports," Zelda shrugged, and that resigned smile curled his lips ever so slightly once more, that almost-apologetic smile, philosophical in the face of helplessness. "The enemy has been accepting surrenders where they can afford it. If you were to surrender New Wagner and Charlotte, I do not believe they will refuse it."

His brows tightening and creasing into a frown, the major general leaned forward in his seat, and he seemed stern…but also concerned, worried, realizing he had a good idea of what her Highness was implying. "Your Highness," her grimaced, looking almost like a schoolmaster reprimanding a schoolgirl who had said something foolish, "if you are thinking about sacrificing yourself for martyrdom…"

Although Zelda had expected that reply, she couldn't help but consciously suppress a laugh; it came out instead as a small giggle, melancholic as it was. "The captain going down with the ship?" she asked, tiredly amused, before shaking her head, the small, sad smile on her lips even as her eyes took a somber, faraway gaze. "Don't worry, General Morgan. If I can survive, I will. I will suffer for my failings, in this life and the next, and whatever may lie in between, but such will be my penance. I intend to survive, if only so I can do what I am able to do for my people even after Hyrule has fallen, if need be." The expression on her face became blank but serious once more. "But only we have the undisputed authority to call a surrender now, and I feel it is best both of us are prepared for that possibility. I do not want our men to blindly sacrifice themselves in anger. They deserve better."

Morgan studied the face of the lady before her, watched the minute changes of his liege, found he could only conclude in a small, quiet voice, "You do not care for vengeance."

The crown princess shook her head. "I do not believe the dead care for vengeance. I believe revenge is for the living, our way to cope with what we have lost, a way by which we try to move on. I believe there are other ways of moving on aside from killing one another for whatever brief satisfaction that might bring. I lost my mother years ago. My father still lives…" She stopped, suddenly realized that the statement was not quite true, not when her father had gone missing since the Battle of Hyrule City, and Morgan suddenly recalled his conversation with Impa when the royal entourage first arrived in New Wagner, when Impa asked why he thought the princess had never brought up the topic of his Majesty, realized that he had never told Zelda that King Robin II's last known location was somewhere distant in the Perrin Mountains.

For some reason, he felt ashamed.

"…I _pray_ he still lives," Zelda amended, "but – realistically – I lost him too two years ago. You may not know it, but I lost my half-brother, whom I was close to, last month. They died because other people made the wrong choices." Her mother because a drunk driver had slammed into her car. Her father because his chauffeur had run a red light. Her half-brother because Leonore sent him on some classified mission. They were gone now, and from her direct bloodline only she remained. "I loved them dearly, and I miss them so…but I remind myself that they no longer suffer. They are together now…" she stopped thoughtfully, and that small, sad smile crept onto her lips once more as the princess looked away, faraway and elsewhere, that distant place where the memories of her family were still fresh, where they were all together in brief moments of happiness amongst moments of drama and politics. "…I would like to think they're happy. I do not think their ghosts cry out to me from beneath the grave to avenge them. I do not think that they would want to see me bloody my hands for their sakes."

Watching Zelda, studying her, empathizing with her, Morgan suddenly realized that he had – once again – underestimated the princess, just as he had when he had expected Zelda to ask about her father, the king. It was probably one of her Highness' greatest advantages, an asset, the ability to hide the true extent of her abilities, her insight, her intellect behind the shroud of youth, and impression of inexperience, the assumption of incompetence. Yet for all the maneuvering of the senators, for all the politics that surrounded Hyrule, for all the dead family members and personal tragedies and insecurities, Zelda, despite her humanity, the humanity she showed now – or perhaps _because_ of her humanity – never let anyone forget just who held supreme power in Hyrule…even though both realized that, within the next few days, that supreme power could be violently wrested from her at the wrong end of too many guns, cannons, and missiles by a relentless foreign enemy.

"Dooming myself would not be for them," the princess stated, the volume of her voice slowly rising from a whisper. "It'd merely be for me. If I could be selfish, I'd rather die than face the shame of having betrayed my country's hopes and expectations. But I am not crown princess for myself, but crown princess for _them_.For them, I would need to live on." Realizing that the strength in her voice had returned a bit too strongly, she tried to manage a rueful smile, her voice quiet once more when she finished, "Our soldiers need to live on. For Hyrule, for everyone who died in this war, for _themselves_. If victory will ultimately elude our grasp, then I will surrender our forces. But if I am not here to do so, then it will have to be you. Because out of everyone here who can do so, I _know_ I can trust _you_ to do so."

Feeling more tired and fatigued than he had ever felt, Morgan slumped forward in his chair, his face hidden in the shadows that drew across his face as angles of light cut across it. Or perhaps it was because he was feeling tired and fatigued that he could not bring himself to mount a resistance against Zelda. What he had seen, what he had done and failed to do, all of it revisited him in that single moment of reflection, and Morgan – a person who had never fought in a single battle or war, a person who had never seen bloodshed or carnage of war death – suddenly realized that he never could've accepted this burden any other way, that it shouldn't have been his to begin with. Despite this, he understood what he was to do, even if he was the least suitable person for it, even if he no longer wanted to do it. All because a princess convinced him that it may fall upon him to betray his oath to uphold it…and because that princess was prepared to do the same.

It took him several tries to get it out of his throat properly, but when those words finally emerged, they were quiet, almost choked. "I…I understand, your Highness."

And because Zelda understood that moment of weakness, realized that she too, had been through it herself, decided that – just for that moment – she would be more than a princess and a sovereign, more than a leader. She slowly stepped her way to the major general, stopping right in front of him, and her gloved arms gently intertwined, providing a soft, light, but comforting hug to the major general whose slumped head – perhaps in resigned defeat – did not resist those arms gently pressing it against Zelda's waist.

"Hang in there, Morgan," she whispered, understanding all too well his pain and suffering, finding that she could only promise a reprieve from it soon. "It'll only be for a little while longer."

* * *

Despite their differences in work methodology, views on teamwork, and progress in investigation, Steven realized with a bit of irritated amusement that there was one thing all three Valentine majors of the 1st SIU had in common: They all traveled by aircraft.

It felt a bit foolish admitting so, but there had always been one joke made by his air force friend that caused Steven to always be a little bit nervous when traveling by helicopter: "If the wings are traveling faster than the fuselage, it's probably a helicopter…and therefore, unsafe." Or maybe it wasn't the joke at all, but just the way helicopters seemed to fly haphazardly through the air; transport planes felt that much safer, especially during the night, where there were generally several hundred meters between itself and the ground, teeming with any hidden enemy anti-aircraft batteries that could be hidden away.

At the very least, though, the darkness beyond the helicopter indicated that night had fallen upon Hyrule, indicating that nighttime had finally completely eclipsed the area. That was good; anti-air installations would _hopefully_ be less likely to take out any single-rotor military transport helicopters – meant to ferry a fireteam or two, but this time carrying on the Valentine intelligence major himself – when they couldn't see it very well without radar. Besides, darkness offered secrecy, and as paramount as things were, discretion was one of the key rules of the game he was going to have to obey here.

"Major," the pilot's voice crackled from the cockpit over the headset Steven wore in the hold, competing for his auditory attention with the great roaring of the helicopter's engines and rotors. "We're a minute out from the coordinates you gave us, but we still don't see anything out here."

It was to be expected, for the coordinates in question were _almost_ in the middle-of-nowhere. Mercifully, it was deep enough into Valentine-occupied territory that the pilots didn't ask exactly why someone wielding National Defense Committee authority was asking for a special airlift to precisely nowhere, especially given the risks involved with flying an aircraft in which its wings moved faster than its fuselage. "That's alright," Steven reassured the pilot, consciously making sure that he wasn't shouting above the helicopter's roar into the microphone of her headset and blasting the eardrums of the short-range transmission's recipient. "Just take us in and drop me off."

If the pilot let disappointment seek into the tone of his voice, it was lost within the sounds of mild static inherent in virtually all military radios. "Copy."

In all honesty, Steven was frustrated. All the evidence he had been attempting to compile was missing despite them being the logical place to start. At some points, he had suspected that someone was hiding something from him, that the officers and soldiers in the areas he was investigating were attempting to keep their mouths shut, but the relocation of the frontlines, the retreat and reorganization of Valent's fighting forces, meant that there were very little he could actually look up without interfering with the war effort, something that he knew was clearly out-of-bounds despite his new authority.

It didn't help that his colleagues were now completely missing. Juno – who had suggested they share information all the way back in Velvet – had disappeared almost entirely ever since they went their separate ways from the Havent, and although there were signs that she had been to November City before, the on-site officers there denied this assumption. Alexandria had been at Fort Regner, at the very least, where she had given Steven her own cache of information, but beyond that, she, too, had become a ghost. And it irritated Steven – frustration directed at himself, he supposed – that said cache was probably the only progress he had managed to make so far throughout the entire investigation. He had gotten no further since. And since he couldn't get in touch with either Alexandria or Juno, it meant no correspondence, no brainstorming, no _anything_. Granted, they were lone wolves and worked better alone, so they said – and it was probably true, given what had apparently discovered so far – but it still felt like they were leaving Steven utterly behind.

Being outclassed was nothing. Getting absolutely nothing done was another matter entirely. Steven didn't want to return to Velvet – after getting what was possibly the greatest post in the history of Valentine military intelligence – with nothing to show for his efforts. Completing the mission was of the highest priority, of course, but it wasn't as if he could simply brush off pride for that alone.

So when Steven finally inevitably heard the news that zorans had been spotted in Astric, that they had taken up arms against the Valentine garrison just as rumors of a Hylian infiltrator sneaking about in the area began to be bandied about, he knew this couldn't be a coincidence…and he knew _exactly_ where to begin his next course of action in hopes to both a breakthrough and a conclusion.

The sinking feeling deep in his stomach and the sense of vertigo indicated that the helicopter was descending to its landing zone, and the rear hatch was beginning to open, giving Steven plenty of room to disembark. Hanging his headset up onto one of the hooks along the wall, he carefully made his way to the rear, waiting for the distinctive bump of the landing gears making contact with the ground before finally stepping back onto land, and waving the helicopter off. It didn't take the Valentine pilots very long for them to ascend back up into the air and disappear once more into the night sky, leaving Steven arguably in the middle of nowhere.

Except it wasn't entirely "nowhere". It was, in fact, at the point where the Evros River eventually split into two, forming the distributary Ardas River. It was a Hylian geographical point approximately two hundred meters north of Astric, where the confrontation between Valentine forces and zoran elements were reported, which was conveniently close to where the suspected Hylian infiltrator had apparently been discovered. The rivers would flow north through the distinctive Hylian plains, where – during this time of the month – greenery slowly turned white as one continued further north where winter had a solid hold on the country, and snow still coated areas as winter began its retreat, ending finally at the northerly Aurora Ocean.

Now that he was here, though, in the middle of what was effectively a Hylian "nowhere", through the cold winter night, Steven had to do one thing that went against his sentiments in regards to his leg of the investigation: Wait. For someone who was so far behind in terms of his job, it was one necessary course of action that he certainly wasn't comfortable with.

He didn't have to wait long.

A silhouette emerged from the water of the Evros, the rise so silent that the water flowed around the figure without a sound, as if it wasn't disturbed at all. Steven did not notice at first, even as a sturdy KS-74 was pulled out of the water as well, in the arms of the silhouette that quietly made itself ever closer to Steven, who still patiently tried to wait, bouncing up and down on the heels of his feet in an attempt to stay warm in the cold. Feet shuffled across Hylian plains, making its way ever closer towards the unaware Valentine major, until, at the very last second, sensing the presence of another behind him more through instinct than through senses, Steven whirled around, a silenced pistol in his hand just as he stared into the barrel of an assault rifle raised in the direction of his face.

The two figures made eye contact for a moment…before the adrenaline finally passed, and – exhaling a sigh of relief – Steven dropped his pistol arm, quickly holstering it as he gave a quick, polite, respectful bow of his head, addressing the person before him. "Karila," he greeted formally.

Unlike many of his kind, his body was not ornamented with what seemed like tribal ornaments and fabrics; rather, he practically seemed naked, save what was effectively a pair of trunks that hugged his hips. Regardless, it was impossible – through looks or through the voice that greeted the Valentine military intelligence major – to mistake Karila for anything else as he lowered the barrel of the assault rifle in his hands, uttering "Steven" in acknowledgment as he did so, other than a zoran.

With greetings out of the way, Steven completed the formalities, gratefully uttering, "I thank you for meeting me on such short notice."

As was with most zorans, Karila's tone was strictly neutral, a common trait amongst his race when it was not stained with hints of rage and disgust. "The situation demands my presence far from home," he remarked, coolly regarding his Valentine counterpart as he did so, "for reasons I suspect are why you, too, are far from home."

"Indeed." Allowances had to be made for that. "Please forgive me impudence, but do tribes within the zorans intend to ally with Hyrule and Gerudo?"

Steven had come to understand that the zorans were generally stoic – anger, aside from expressionlessness, was what graced their features more often than any other emotion, and in that, he felt that zorans were, perhaps, much more similar to the Valentine than they were to Hylians and the Gerudo – so when Karila seemed to adopt a somewhat troubled expression, the major knew there was good reason to be worried. "The situation is…complicated," the zoran finally allowed after a moment of hesitation, trying to be both considerate and frank, something that apparently did not come naturally to his race. "There are many who would rather not see the rise of Valent; they've not forgotten Grand Duchess Sieglinde, and question whether the new regime would be any kinder."

There were so many questions that Steven wanted to ask regarding that, so many inquires he could fire off in hopes that it would provide answers that served to formulate the larger questions at hand. The ultimate question he needed answered at the moment, however, was prudently his first: "Is their target Jormungand?"

"We believe so."

Steven took a deep breath, exhaled it. He had expected the answer, anticipated it, _wanted _it, but now that Karila had actually confirmed it, he felt a bit…cold. Jittery. Like a chill had suddenly passed through his body in a way that it often did when it was obvious that things were going terribly, terribly wrong. Still, he composed himself. "What is it that Hyrule has promised to change minds?"

"We do not think it is Hyrule who masterminds this plot, Steven."

Karila's intonation, the subtle signs in his body language, Steven's own understanding of the situation regarding the entire investigation, and a lengthy but quick train of logic caused a revelation, a startling moment of understanding, to dawn upon the Valentine intelligence major, and his expression, too, turned troubled, hard. "I see," was all he could murmur. If his assumption regarding what was _really _happening held true, then perhaps it was a mixed blessing, both good _and _bad news, depending on how well the Valentine military would exploit it…or, honestly, _could_ exploit it. He was inexperienced, but not an amateur, and knew armies forced into a deadlock could not move overnight easily.

It was up to them, then, the 1st SIU.

"It makes sense, then," Steven continued, allowing the theory to click into place with facts, recognizing it as the best working theory he had so far regarding the chain of events. That said, he still needed to do something about it, and that Karila was sharing this information _and_ still standing here indicated that hope was most likely not all lost. "But you still assist me?"

"You've done us honor in the past," Karila said, almost offhandedly, as if it was one of the most natural statements in the world, "and zorans remember their debts."

And, for that, Steven was genuinely grateful. "And you do me much honor," he admitted honestly, bowing his head humbly as he said so. "Do our enemies possess the ability to destroy Jormungand?"

Karila regarded the major for a moment, his expression a greatly subdued mixture between amusement and surprise. "So casually you speak of your trump card." When Steven showed no signs of looking like he admitted any mistakes on his part, Karila merely nodded, as if accepting this statement, then – realizing that such personal sentiments, independent of the question Steven posed, temporarily conflicted with the answer he was to give – shook his head. "But no, we do not think they do right at the moment." His black eyes narrowed dangerously. "But this will likely soon change. The others grow confident; doubtlessly, they have a plan beyond what we can see."

"I must speak with them immediately."

Again, the zoran regarded Steven coolly, cautiously; he understood the Valentine's reasoning and logic, found no fault with it outside a touch of idealism that Karila considered to be the human's greatest strength and also his greatest weakness. "You are esteemed and carrying our blessings, so they are honor-bound not to harm you," he nodded slowly, trying to sound agreeable before allowing reality to weight in. "Still, I am not certain this choice is not without its risks. They are too many sharks in the water."

That Steven understood, even before he came here; he understood human politics, zoran politics, military intelligence politics, and now – as it seemed – he was coming to understand 1st SIU politics. But there were some matters in which they had no choice. "We all do what we must," the major allowed.

For a third time, Karila studied the major with the kind of cool, offhand intensity that zorans seemed to possess, before – apparently satisfied by what he saw in the young Valentine major – nodded his consent. "Very well, then," he conceded, and, on cue, seven more silhouettes emerged from the Ardas and Evros Rivers around them, silhouettes sleek in the moonlight and carrying weapons with them as they gathered at the meeting between human and zoran, moving with a single purpose. "Time is short. Follow us."

* * *

"Link."

The soft, feminine voice whispering his name from a spot just over his ear gently brought Link back to the realm of consciousness, his instinctive alertness soothed by the familiarity and serenity of the sound beckoning him to awaken. Rousing from his slumber, he slowly opened his eyes, blue eyes from behind sunglasses exposed once more to the dim light of the APC he slept in, taking in his surroundings in an instant.

The sound of the engines of their vehicle was gone, and he felt neither rumble nor lurch around him, indicating the APC had stopped and powered down. Jessica was kneeling beside him, waking him up; she didn't look like she had gotten any sleep, but still somehow seemed rather awake and alert. The wounded zoran on the other side of the APC still breathed in labored gasps; he remained bloodied and battered, but he lived. Between them, Epona remained, unchanged since it had first boarded the vehicle. He consciously processed all this, consciously knew that he was consciously doing so, consciously aware that he was truly tired and fatigued to have to realize all this consciously as opposed to instinctively.

But if he looked as worn as he felt, his temporary allies held no pity for him. From the driver's compartment emerged two more familiar zorans, maneuvering around Epona as they made for the rear exit. The younger driver ignored Link completely, while the older guerilla merely spared him a quick glance – Jessica coiled defensively from where she knelt over Link, preparing to intervene at the first sign of violence directed against them – grunting in that distinctive metallic tone, "Get up. We're here." And, with that, the doors of the APC's rear hatch opened, the two zorans quickly moved out of the vehicle, out of the small, temporary shelter of quiet, and back into the world.

Raising his wrist above his head, Link took a look at his wristwatch, registering both the time and date of this present reality. Only after processing its implications did the Joint Intelligence operative give a slow sigh, a deep exhale, before he finally pushed himself up from where he laid down, Jessica stepping back to give him room while he rose to his feet, the two of them finally turning to step out of the APC to face what the next few hours would bring.

The second week of the war had ended. The third week had begun.

* * *

**Exoria File #026  
Morgan (Abridged Career Service Vitae)**

"Name: Morgan  
Rank: Major General  
Age: 38 (born October 17, 1468) (?)  
Birthplace: Hope (?), Hyrule  
Service Number: 2184646M  
Date of Enlistment: September 1, 1491

Background: Abandoned at Hope Municipal Orphanage at approximately the age of two; records inconclusive, parents unknown. Birthdate officially registered as day of identification in 1470. Was deemed eligible for benefits under the Spencer Welfare Program, and enrolled in Diamond Coast University of Polytechnics in 1486, graduating with honors in 1490.

Career: Applied for and received conscientious objector status upon enlistment. Graduated from officer candidate school with a commission to first lieutenant in the Hylian army. Was tasked to assist research and development efforts for Ministry of Defense contractor Allen-Rosencrantz Heavy Industries until transferred to command military engineering departments with recommendations from Allen-Rosencrantz accompanying consecutive promotions to brigadier general in 1500. Promoted to major general in 1503, and designated third director of the Office of Long-Distance Electronic Reconnaissance by the Ministry of Defense in the same year.

Assessment: Highly educated and intelligent general in the technical field. Deemed to be of excellent moral character, despite reservations of general staff towards his conscientious objector status. Considered highly knowledgeable in technological warfare; consultation on such matters is highly recommended. Relative youth amongst the Hylian military's command staff may encourage innovation towards traditional or conventional norms of logic and thinking amongst the higher echelons, although this should be taken cautiously.

Recommendation: Continued service as director of OLRER.

Last updated December 25, 1506"

* * *

Author's Note: Yes, I'm aware this is likely the longest gap between chapters in quite a long while. I'll try to address this a bit further down the author's note.

This will be the last bit of breather in the Jormungand arc. Actually, this will be the last bit of breather for a very long time. I apologize for it lasting as long as it did; between several real life difficulties – recovering from the surgery I mentioned on the previous chapter's author's note, work, migraines, _Skyrim_, and so on – it became somewhat apparent that I had not planned the Jormungand arc as well as I should have. I knew the ending, of course, but I realize that I had not completely solidified the steps by which I would get there. It took some time for me to figure out how, exactly, I wanted to do this, but hopefully, with the writing of Chapter Twenty-Five, I'll finally get this down. Onwards towards Jormungand's destruction.

The scene between Zelda and Morgan was difficult to get right; with what's effectively a breather with these two chapters, it was largely those two characters on the allied side of the game I haven't touched on, and aside from Link's arguably-victorious struggles, I also wanted to show how bad and desperate things looked on the macro-environment, and how badly it has taken its toll on the human psyche, how leaders like Zelda and Morgan – as opposed to advisors like Impa and Leonore – are struggling to handle that burden. I hope I'm conveying such points well enough, and that the scene doesn't seem stilted or mopey or otherwise unreadable. The writing of human conversations beyond the bearings of the plot has always been something that I've needed to work on, so any feedback on that end would be very much appreciated.

Aside from the aforementioned problems, I'm ramming into a bit of a writer's block. And, by "a bit", I sort of mean "the size of the Hoover Dam". I'll try using a few different techniques to get around it, but I'll apologize in advance once more if it turns out to be a very long wait. At least the holidays – Christmas and New Year's – should be a means by which to keep you all entertained while I try to figure out how to demolish this colossal block, preferably with a strategic weapon.

Anon: _Interesting, I'm still baffled by Jessica's presence at the site. Glad Link picked that up, if she could get there without any problems why couldn't he use the same path? Interesting. I guess the next thing is that Valentine is generally prepared for an attack on Jormagund (I think that's the super ship, although you called it Anansi in this chapter), so how will Link deal with beefed up defenses._

This is a point where I'm comfortable in saying that it was really a matter of luck. The plan called for them to get to the rendezvous point separately to ensure that they don't put all their eggs in one basket; Link, however, ran into more problems because he believed he was protected by his special forces fatigues when the enemy was, in fact, looking for him, and therefore ran into all sorts of trouble. Whereas Jessica, who couldn't masquerade as a Valentine infantrywoman even if she had the uniform (being unable to speak or understand Valentine might have something to do with that), was cautious from the get-go, and ran into fewer snags in the plan.

And thank you for pointing out the error in my calling Jormungand "Anansi"; I've edited it out. Hopefully, I will make less typos in the future.

Jokeruto: _Nice just in time Skyward Sword. though I wish the series would shake things up like you have. I really hope Juno's in for a major fall, getting in bed with what amounts to a pair of terrorists, there doesn't seem to be any redeeming value with her. Cant wait to see how Link pulls this off, though I gotta wonder whats going to happen to the 1st SIU when they miserably fail to stop Link._

Using "local assets", or assets that have deniability, or even mercenaries, have persisted even into modern day warfare. The British hired German Hessian mercenaries to defend against American revolutionists during the American War of Independence, while today, agencies maintain contact with operatives – or, as you'd prefer to put it, terrorists – not officially on a government payroll and familiar with the local area to take out their dirty laundry (or so we assume). Juno's virtues, really, are dedication and ambition, but she's also meant to epitomize what happens when such traits are taken too far.

Saintjimmy84: _You're right about authors needing their egos stroked once in a while. I took up writing my own FanFic about a month ago and I'm amazed at how much reviews affect me; they're a sign that people are listening._

_At any rate, I love what you're doing with this story, and think it's sad that you haven't received more attention for it. Of course, some of that could have to do with the fandom; I've noticed that reviews run high in some fandoms and low in others, and while I don't have enough experience with the Zelda fandom to determine just how many reviews fics usually receive, I've noticed that video game fandoms tend to get less overall._

_On to the review part of the review, though. First, you're brilliant with prose, and I can see why Peptuck (I found you through his favorite authors list) and others consider you worth adding as a favorite; you're one of the few authors out there who can chain two sentences together in a way that makes them more than the sum of their parts. Your characterizations are great, and I'm especially fond of the way you've captured Link's silent protagonist bit without making him seem out of place in the story. I also like the way you bring ideas and imagery from the games into your new, modern world (like Epona), and you're also very good at taking the base narrative behind your chapters and fleshing them out with details that remind the reader that they're getting a glimpse into a world that's larger than what's happening at the moment. Your references to technology, military tactics, and politics all constantly suggest that the characters exist in a detailed, interesting world that's got more going on in it than the author is describing at the moment._

_Anyhow, please keep up the good work. I admit I'm a bit traumatized that your FF6 story didn't seem to make it out of the gate (I think I may have said as much in a review I posted for it), but the world you've created here more than makes up for it._

I'm quite glad that you've recognized the author's need for ego-stroking, and chose to left a review for that; of that I am quite grateful.

In general, fandoms are a bit more fickle when it comes to video games. Anime is generally a more popular medium, and even then, there are certain franchises that are more popular than others. Alas, my interest lies often with the outliers, series that do not receive enough popular attention, or those that are not considered great fanfiction material. Hopefully, the latest release of _Skyward Sword_ will help encourage reviews a bit, but perhaps that is merely hoping.

Plot-forging and world-building are admittedly things I do better for fanfiction than character-making; I'm a bit better at the last item when it comes to roleplays, but I wouldn't dare say by too much. I'm mostly a novice when it comes to technology and military tactics – although I _have_ minored in geopolitics, so I'd like to assume I'm at least fairly well-informed on such matters – but I've been trying hard to do my homework and at least resemble something that's plausible in a hybrid-world between real life and the setting of _Zelda_. So while one must remain humble and realize there's a lot of distance to cover, a lot of room by which to improve, I am generally confident enough in world-building to believe I can create a well-crafted setting by which to execute my plot. Link's silent protagonist status is a shout out to his behavior in the games, of course, but it's really portrayed as him not being very talkative. It's not a very important point (although it's actually related to a _very_ important point), but the reason for this will be explained in-story.

_Children of the Magi_ is what I'd like to consider a fic put on indefinite hiatus rather than "dead"; I'd like to think that I will return to it when I'm better-equipped to write it (_VI_, _VIII_, _XII_, and _Tactics_ are among my favorite _Final Fantasy_ games), although I honestly do not know when this will be. I do have the desire to at least try to finish a few things I've never completed, though, so we'll see how that goes.

Thank you for your favorable review; I hope to see more from you in the future, at your convenience.

SSMBPwnage: _Good filler chapter, nice background info on Aisha and Kashim. I wonder what kind of training Aisha went through to make her so...proficient, interested to see where you take these particular characters. Link has to step up his game if he wants to advance any further now that Valent is catching on, wonder where the Zorans are going to fit into all this, they don't seem to have the resources to even think about taking on a super submarine._

Without spoiling too much: The zorans are not exactly ridiculously impoverished, nor are they actively prevented from gathering their own resources. Today, they are legally permitted the same rights as your average Hylian, although in practice, racism and prejudice is rife. Still, the government does not exactly bar them from getting any resources they can purchase – business is business, after all – aside from certain materials the government feels wary about, things like weapons, fertilizers, sophisticated information technologies, anything that could be used for bombs or hacking devices or resources for anti-government, secessionist action. However, zoran technology has developed very differently from the mainland, largely due to an emphasis on a different environment, so not only have the Hylians been limiting access to the wrong resources, they don't really _understand_ zoran tech. Still, there are some hard issues that even the zorans won't be able to get past on their own, which is why Link is currently on his way to meet them. Even if neither side seems to be particularly happy about it. Why the zorans need Link should be pretty obvious at around…Chapter Twenty-Eight or Twenty-Nine, I'm guessing. I actually have that segment written out, so I'll have an easier time just copying and pasting it into the chapter. We're getting there.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Six

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

"I've got the information you asked, ma'am," Second Lieutenant Erich started the call with absolutely no bullshit the moment Alexandria connected the line. "Dossiers and CSV's transmitting to you now." A pause. "Note: I didn't actually _look_, per se, but I highlighted one file in particular that may be of interest to you. The header looks pretty suspicious by itself."

Receiving the transmitted files on her handheld computer, Alexandria's eyes narrowed the moment she saw the header of the highlighted file, concurred with Erich's assessment, and made a mental note to take a look at it last; chances were this _was_ the file she was looking for, but the other files deserved a glance, even if they weren't the jackpot. "Thanks, Erich, got them all," the major replied coolly before disconnecting the call and getting down to work. The list materialized with relatively short list of names for an intelligence report, which meant it numbered at about two dozen. Contrary to popular belief, much of an intelligence operation often had more to do with speculation than concrete facts; if the available information was so conveniently comprehensive that one could determine infallible conclusions from them, think-tanks and strategizing organizations such as intelligence agencies would be entirely redundant. Most of them begin with guesswork, and an attempt at an unbiased compilation of facts to see if things match up.

Her commandeered helicopter was still in the air and still heading north. There was a certain acceptance that, at this point, she didn't exactly _know_ where the enemy saboteur and his zoran allies were headed other than a vague direction: North. But she knew that they were in an APC, and there would be certain limits on their speed by which they were willing to travel if they didn't wish to be detected. If she had underestimated that, though, and they _were_ traveling faster than Alexandria had expected, then chances were good that the APC would be blown off the face of the earth by Valentine forces that could find them using the most basic of surveillance and reconnaissance techniques; so much the better, even if it didn't count as a 1st SIU victory.

Regardless, this train of logic was why Alexandria was headed for a staging area closer towards the northern coastline; the enemy was going to be forced to remain in that particular region for a few hours by virtue of time and travel speed, and she wanted to be close by in case any second chances were going to pass by. There wouldn't be a third; after the next few hours, the APC could make a turn in any which direction, making any further attempt to pursue without determining a specific location fruitless.

For now, though, the major's eyes scanned down the headers of the list. Indeed, when she read the name that Erich had highlighted, complete with last known rank and outfit, Alexandria immediately agreed that this was the most suspicious of the lot, and instantly regulated _that_ particular file to be on the last one on the reading list. It was one thing to speculate and make assumptions, but another to be blinded by preconceptions; she wanted to give all the other files a decent chance first, to read the details inside before looking at the one that was most likely to make the most sense. By the end of ten minutes, however, after some swift skimming and reading of key details, Alexandria finally opened the highlighted file, complete with photograph and CSV, almost certain that this was going to be the jackpot.

Captain Duncan, 7th Battalion Royal Guard. An ugly but intense-looking veteran, he had been transferred into the unit from special forces on request, although for years he served in an auxiliary capacity. Only after the late Queen Eileen's marriage to the late King Adam III did he become the personal bodyguard to her Majesty…at the queen's personal request, no less, despite some objections by Colonel Oskar, then-commanding officer of the Royal Guard. His tenure was short-lived, however, for the Valentine Revolution soon came in full swing, and within the scope of mere days, King Adam III and Queen Eileen were killed in the fighting between revolutionary forces and the then-members of the Royal Guard.

As for Duncan's current status: Missing in action.

Alexandria frowned. Barring special forces, the 7th Battalion Royal Guard had some of the best soldiers out there, responsible for maintaining the safety and security of the royal family in peace or in war. They had obviously been the shield of the royal family during the revolution, practically as good as special forces although with a much more different focus, so the late General Alphonse and then-Lord Tacitus must've kept very careful tabs on each and every member of the Royal Guard before, during, and after Tacitus' ascension and coronation. In the hours leading up to the revolution, they were distracted, diverted, isolated, and incapacitated through careful maneuvering. The surviving members of the 7th Battalion were eventually granted a blanket pardon – they were, after all, simply carrying out their dutiful orders as bound by oath, and no one faulted them for that, even if that had previously put them at odds with the new regime – but surviving members were still monitored for years. And casualties had been tracked even during the battles in Velvet to ensure that every member of the military bodyguard outfit was accounted for, that there would be no sudden surprises from the highly-trained unit, no sudden resurrections because they "didn't find the body". King Tacitus was not a man who left loose ends. A captain from the Royal Guard doesn't just up and disappear from prying Valentine eyes, and they certainly didn't remain hidden for almost two decades.

What had happened to Duncan? Where was he now? And what – if anything – did he have to do with a Hylian gunsword-wielding infiltrator?

The top of display winked twice with the icon of an envelope, indicating that the new pieces of information she had requested from other sources had arrived, so Alexandria decided to temporarily shelve this gunsword theory of hers to focus on more immediate matters: The zorans. Their participation in the previous engagement was extremely alarming, given that word from up top was that Valent was supposed to have limited interference from certain parties, including Southern Gerudo extremists and zoran guerillas, two entities that might've been tempted to cause mischief in times of great upset had better alternatives not been offered to them in the first place. The fact that they were siding with the Hylians was made worse by the knowledge that the infiltrator was targeting Jormungand. It was only natural that Alexandria wanted to know what the zorans wanted and what they were capable of.

A new list of intelligence reports filtered onto Alexandria's screen, headers of pertinent documents written on zorans by the international intelligence community from beyond two decades ago eventually being chronologically replaced by those coming only from Valent's own intelligence organs the further she scrolled down, a restriction on information made inevitable once the kingdom became isolationist. Valent had never been particularly mindful of the zorans except for keeping them away from its shores – the last eighteen years had been spent preparing for this war, not gathering information on an aquatic second-rate race – and Hyrule considered them beneath contempt. Gerudo's climate and geography just didn't promote zoran civilization there, and the modern history of Gerudo notwithstanding, it was likely that the zorans wanted to be as far away from both Southern Gerudo fundamentalists and MICO as possible. The end result was that there was actually ultimately very little revealing Valentine intelligence on the amphibious race beyond the basic knowledge that everyone knew, that the zorans had largely been put down during the Third Zoran Crusade, and now live in husks of their respective tribes across different maritime natural reserves, most of them in Hyrule.

One particular report filed close to the present, however, offered a rather uniquely concise perspective into zoran society. The names of two dozen different tribes were listed, complete with estimates for population, birth and death rates, political standing, ideological agenda, even historical background, all of them filed with meticulous care and precision. For a moment, Alexandria even wondered if the author was just making things up. For someone with barely any familiarity with zorans, Alexandria came upon at least one fact that was stunning to her: That there were far more of them than she had expected from a loose, uninformed perception that they were a dying race moving closer towards extinction. It was, in her opinion, not an unreasonable assumption, given how badly the Provisional Human Army and civilian lynch mobs had massacred entire zoran populations following the Valentine victory at the Battle of Dendrite Falls. She could never give any precise gut estimate with her population, having almost absolutely no figure in her head or any basis by which she could make any informed guesses, but probably would've said "several thousand at best" if pressed for it.

According to this report, however, that guess was ridiculously off, not when estimates for the zoran population in 1505 were listed at around seven hundred thousand.

Her mind reeled at the insinuation. Seven hundred thousand, with every indication, supported by the vocabulary of this report, that the zorans possessed a thoroughly militarized society. If zorans aged eighteen to fifty-five were considered capable combatants, it effectively meant that the zorans could field three, maybe even four armies at any given time. That was practically half of a Valentine, Hylian, or Gerudo active military, not counting reserve forces. These were numbers that could inflict a whole lot more than just "mischief", human superiority with military technology be damned. _If this report is true_, Alexandria thought, _then how has no one noticed this_?

She needed to confirm details with whomever wrote this report, and soon. She needed to get in touch with military intelligence and put her in contact with whomever had compiled all this information, ask for his opinions and speculation on certain issues, and immediately. Alexandria quickly scrolled up to the top of the report, found the entry that listed the author's name…

Military intelligence captain Steven.

Alexandria stared for all of about a second before she compared the military ID number on the report with that of Major Steven's dossier. It was a match. And Steven _was_ ranked captain two years ago, when this report was submitted.

It took Alexandria another moment to process this: Major Steven, making up a third of the 1st Special Investigative Unit she was part of, was the one who filed this comprehensive report on zorans.

Surprise aside – the major wondered if this had anything to do with his appointment amongst the ranks of the 1st SIU, and why no one else on the National Defense Committee had connected the dots beforehand – Alexandria wasted no time in attempting to contact Steven instead, trying to reach him through a military phone. If he wasn't going to share intelligence, then he had to at least know that zorans were involved.

The connection, however, did not go through; Steven either wasn't picking up the phone on his end, or was disconnected from the network. Alexandria nevertheless took a look on the 1st SIU server that the National Defense Committee had given them by requisitioning one of military intelligence's databases. It was not to her surprise that Juno's reports were meticulous in its inanity; it wasn't that she had nothing to report, but simply chose not to report, for the server was shared, and – as a fond admirer of a "need-to-know" basis when she was at the very top – she did not like to share information. Alexandria herself did not file many reports herself, although it largely had to do with her spending more of her time in the field and a lack of talent with writing in the first place.

Steven's logs, however, were clean, organized, and meticulous. Aside from constant status updates and detailed briefings of his personal findings – which amounted to very little – there were even transportation logs of where he had been over the past few days, which Alexandria direly needed if she was going to reach the only male officer of the 1st SIU. One phone call later, however, and she learned that Steven requisitioned command of a transport helicopter from his last known location, October City, and then fell off the grid after that; he apparently didn't update his logs to wherever he was going. Mercifully, however, she was put into contact with the specific helicopter that had transported Major Steven, and received confirmation minutes afterwards from the pilot that the major was now on-the-ground somewhere at a specific set of coordinates that Steven had not forbade the helicopter crew from sharing.

The coordinates on the map showed that there was nothing of particular interest there, no population centers, infrastructure, or even Valentine military outposts.

But remembering that she was dealing with the aquatic zorans, Alexandria still couldn't help but notice that it was the _exact_ spot where the Ardas River split from the Evros River.

Leaning into the cockpit of the helicopter, the major swiftly thrust the monitor of her handheld in front of both pilots, showing them where exactly on the map and coordinates she needed to get to, right _now_. "Emergency reroute. Take me to these coordinates."

* * *

Dozens of kilometers away, and coincidentally also several meters above ground in a rotary-wing aircraft, Juno had ascertained the situation in a relatively different way.

She had not strongly taken the zorans into consideration for the simple matter of fact that, as far as she knew, Valentine intelligence did not have enough information on the zorans. No one did; they had effectively become an isolationist people ever since the Zoran Crusades…or, at least as isolationist as politics would permit them to, given that neither Valent, Hyrule, and Gerudo were particularly enthusiastic about the prospects of a zoran rebellion, and kept close tabs on possible insurgencies that often infringed on zoran political and personal freedoms. Still, the matter of the fact was that Juno considered any attempt to make preemptive informational tactics regarding the maritime race to ultimately be a dead end with insufficient resources…at least until a periodic update came onto her handheld computer.

For her, it was fortunate that Alexandria was not as tech-savvy as most intelligence officers would prefer to be; handing most of her electronic tasks to support groups instead, she was more of a field agent than an intelligence analyst, which was why – days into their investigation – Juno had already managed to crack into her handheld computer, kept track of Alexandria covertly and periodically to maintain an idea on what her rival was up to.

Juno was peripherally aware of such utter pettiness, but reasoned that all was fair in love and war. Such tactics were merely a means to an end, and so long as the consequences all worked out when the dust settled…well, consequentialist moralities fortunately tended to historically mesh well with military leadership.

As expected of a former special forces officer, Alexandria's thinking and subsequent actions were relatively non-linear. Whereas Juno followed a fast-paced, rigorous, yet time-tested conventional methodology of deduction, Alexandria had taken on a far more unconventional approach by investigation high-probability scenarios that may not have led to each other at first glance. Still, Juno had not ascended to the rank of major at so young an age without the assistance of pedigree or status by being incompetent, and while Alexandria's movements had initially been rather unpredictable, they became immediately understandable once Juno became aware of such movements being made.

This new activity, however, moving in the direction of the Ardas and the Evros – without nothing near the direction Alexandria was headed in – was utterly puzzling even to Juno. _What the hell is over there?_

Checking Alexandria's previous logs – a small script that recorded every action the intelligent major ever did with her computer, with records covertly being transmitted to Juno's own handheld device – Juno retraced every piece of her rival's investigation step-by-step, and then…

_Holy shit._ Juno felt her entire body go lax at the revelation she eventually came to, wide-eyed._ How have I not noticed this?_

It did not take long for her to react, however, and seconds later, she was connecting a call to her subordinates who were, with any luck, still at their previous site of operations.

"Are our people still in Astric?" the major demanded the moment the call was connected, before her subordinate had any chance to say anything.

The subordinate was startled, but still managed to answer crisply, "Yes, ma'am."

Orders were snapped off with rapid-fire alacrity, Juno tolerating no delay in accomplishing what should conventionally be considered impossible. "I want full strategic and tactical command of the outfits within five minutes, and for them to be moving out to the coordinates I'm sending you in ten. Forget logistics; abandon any and all supplies and equipment they don't have time to pack, just get them combat-ready and moving in ten." Waiting for a proper, conventional relocation would take too long; it was a poor decision by any conventional doctrine, but Juno knew she wasn't dealing with conventional warfare at this point, and simply needed armed bodies in the area as quickly as possible. The soldiers were simply going to have to take whatever was around them at the time and show up in vehicles already refueled. "Invoke National Defense Committee authority. They can go back to Astric when we're done here."

There was just the slightest of hesitations on the other end. "Yes, ma'am," replied the intelligence officer, a quality to her tone barely hinting that she wasn't eager to get into the inevitable pissing match with the commanding officer in Astric over the ridiculous but necessary orders. "Which outfits, ma'am?"

"_All of them_."

* * *

It was dark beyond the confines of the APC, but the interior of the vehicle had not be bright to begin with, and it took only seconds for Link's eyes to adjust to the new environment as he followed Jessica out of the APC, giving a careful, deliberate sweep around with his gaze. It was clear they were inside some kind of manmade structure, but the lack of lighting, the darkness, the concrete surroundings, the sounds of water, smell of filth, and the feeling of dampness told Link that they were likely underground again…likely a sewer system.

"_Another_ sewer system," Durandara groaned privately to Link, echoing the agent's thoughts. "Why can't our getaways be _more_ creative and _less_ unpleasant?"

Mentally concurring with the AI nearly caused Link to space out and bump into Jessica, whom the Hylian suddenly realized had paused and looked a little defensive. It was not difficult to surmise why: The room was almost entirely bluish-silver. Not literally, but a practiced gaze around the chamber suddenly told Link that they were surrounded by zorans that numbered in the dozens. Fifty, sixty, maybe more, most of the carrying weapons of some sort, men and women both, some of them looking small enough to be children. They were moving around with tasks that made the chamber look almost like the hangar of some military installation, an impression reinforced by the fact that there were boxes, crates, outdated machinery, old weapons, and plenty of ammunition scattered all over the place. It seemed to be an overwhelming amount to smuggle into Hyrule, even though they were no longer as far from the northern shores as they could've been, and Link contemplated the possibility that the zorans had, in fact, already managed to infiltrate Hylian subterranean networks long before this war, that entire warbands were hiding down here with weapons and ammunition while a country in peacetime didn't know better.

Link decided against the possibility. If this was the case, there was no way the zorans would've let him see this place and then leave alive…or, at least, he was _hoping_ he'd get to leave alive. That the zorans moved in after the Hylians and the Valentine moved out was a lot more logical an explanation.

The observation of his surroundings, however, caused Link to suddenly be overcome with the feeling uncomfortable for most agents, the realization that he was standing out outrageously; almost every eye in the room was on him and Jessica as the two non-zorans, most of the gazes wary, harsh, and unfriendly…and even then, the zorans didn't seem to be distracted from whatever tasks they were doing as much as they were just reviewing the situation and making peace with their inner feelings. For what had to be the two hundred and seventeenth time since he had embarked on this mission, Link had to fight back the feeling of overpowering defenselessness. He had been on the wrong end of too much firepower on what seemed to at least be a weekly basis now, but being outnumbered in such close-quarters against so many potentially hostile zorans served – more so than anything else – to drive home how out of his field and specialty he was, and that – even with Jessica an ally – if the zorans decided to kill Link for any number of reasons imaginable or unimaginable, he wouldn't stand a chance.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he was beginning to miss the days when "covert action" had more to do with information handoffs, extraditing defecting foreign officers, and conducting surveillance on suspicious targets, and less to do with taking on military forces, dealing with historically hostile maritime races, and sabotaging superweapons that could easily turn him into a rather nasty splatter against the pavement.

Still, he moved from the APC, motivated largely by the necessity to move out of the way as two zorans armed with a stretcher passed Link by without much regard – as if he and Jessica were not there at all – emerging a mere moment later with the wounded zoran from before in between them. He was still breathing, but unconscious and even paler than he had seemed in the darkness of the APC. Link had the distinct feeling that, one way or another, he wouldn't see that zoran again.

"Link?" Jessica murmured, noting the Hylian's distraction. The Joint Intelligent officer looked up, noted that he was now trailing behind his two zoran escorts. The zorans had not ordered them to follow, but it seemed highly advisable to do so nonetheless; this was not the kind of place either Link or Jessica wished to be caught isolated in, and so they moved to join their allies of convenience, the former with more difficulty due to lingering pains than the latter.

They did not get far, however. They had barely crossed half the chamber with the crowd parting before them when a bark resounded from in front of them. "Bark" was the only way Link could adequately describe it, for it was a sound that was nearly identical to that of a dog, except a syllable – Link failed to catch it in time – was clearly enunciated by the zoran vocal cords that made their speech feel like some kind of metallic reverberation. As opposed to a canine, something that the Hylian actually reflexively expended to see, what he could only identify as an angry zoran emerged from the sea of bluish-silver, flanked by two more armed zorans that seemed calmer but no less imposing.

The older zoran – Link decided that they weren't interested in providing names, so he mentally labeled the older one the Veteran and the younger one the Driver – did not motion for either Link or Jessica to stop, but when he halted a full step behind the Driver, the two non-zorans also froze where they were, watching a snarl develop on the Driver's face as he stalked forth to confront the armed entourage that had suddenly intercepted their party. Unsurprisingly, no one seemed happy. Words were hissed with varying degrees of furtiveness, although whether the words of their altercations were meant to be kept privy from Link and Jessica, or the zoran crowd around them, the Hylian knew not. He tried to read their lips, failed to gleam anything he could understand from the conversation silent to him, concluded that they were speaking a language outside his knowledge. Still, one did not need to understand the vocabulary to read body language and facial language. Whether the suppression of either was a racial trait or a trained one, the Hylian was not sure, but he was rather certain that the zorans were coming to some sort of disagreement, and were arguing about it in as civil – or as covert – a manner as possible.

Somehow, Link couldn't help but wonder if the terms of the game had suddenly changed. He spared a furtive glance at Jessica, observed that she hadn't saw what he had saw; she was too busy giving her own cautious looks at the numbers and weaponry that the zorans were packing, assessing and categorizing their manpower and firepower.

The sudden silence interrupted Link's thoughts as he realized the quarreling zorans had fallen silent, staring at each other coldly, calmly. Glares locked, their hands seemed to slowly move in a position ready for hand-to-hand combat. With the fins zorans had across their arms that could emit high voltage shocks, Link knew well enough that such a confrontation could be lethal. There was an astoundingly intense, restrained quality to the altercation, and he couldn't help but somehow assume, despite a near-complete lack of understanding of zoran culture, that – had this encounter happened in less exceptional circumstances – no one would've hesitated to draw blood on the spot.

But Veteran had approached from behind, settled a hand on Driver's shoulder, pulling him back. His body language was calmer: Not confrontational, but anything but submissive. The way he addressed the zorans obstructing his path was firm, but peaceable; Link might've felt that Veteran seemed almost _bored_. Words, statements were exchanged in the form of what looked like swift negotiation, and although they didn't look too happy about it, in the end, the interlopers stepped aside, although not without casting glares at the passing entourage as Veteran and Driver walked through, and Link and Jessica saw fit to follow as closely as possible.

No information or answers was offered or given. The absolute lack of cooperation between the two parties – aside from the zorans treating their Hyrule and Gerudo compatriots as living cargo to be ferried – was frustrating to Link, once again solidifying the idea that there was little he could do.

Their two zoran "allies" led them on a zigzagging path through the sewers, and it occurred to Link that he wasn't even sure which city they were under anymore. Judging by the size of the system, he ventured that they were under a city as opposed to just a town, and judging by how long it had been since they traveled from Astric by APC, under the assumption that they headed in a general northerly direction, Link ventured the guesses of Anaheim or Armadale, but there was no way to be sure. He thought about asking Durandara or Jessica, but doing so with the former under such circumstances was out of the question – not with the AI's existence still a Hylian secret – and Jessica looked like she had enough on her mind just collecting data that would undoubtedly be used for a new MICO threat assessment on the zorans.

Either way was good news for him, however. Both cities were only a day's travel away from the northern coast in a vehicle traveling at reasonable speed. They were getting close to the ocean…to where Jormungand prowled the waters. Hopefully, the zorans would keep the end of their promise in regards to having a way to sabotage and destroy Jormungand.

And when Link stepped into what looked like a massive sewer hub, he felt he had reason to be optimistic.

If Jessica had been worried about being on the wrong end of too much zoran firepower before, Link was sure that she was downright apoplectic now. The sewer hub, looking about the size of a lobby to a luxurious high-rise office building, seemed to have been converted into some kind of assembly area for a formal meeting, because the two humans discovered that they had walked into a sea of zorans. Like a crowd gathered for a town meeting, they watched the passage of the human entourage of two with quiet, expectant gazes, spheres of silence enveloping where they walked. Men, women, and children surrounded them, black, beady eyes in an ocean of bluish-gray. Link decided that he'd weather their glares, despite the fact that it seemed _every_ zoran in the room was carrying some kind of weapon, assault rifles, submachine guns, shotguns, even a machine gun here and there. After all, if this many zorans had bothered to gather in one place, then it was likely that they were serious about rendering assistance to destroy Jormungand after all.

But as he and Jessica were through the crowd, the Hylian began to have doubts. The reactions of some of the zorans towards Veteran and Driver were muted, but others looked outright hostile. It wasn't confined to just the group of four newcomers either; he couldn't identify the precise patterns of clothing the different zorans wore, but he was beginning to have an impression that the anger was also divided along tribal lines…as if groups of the zorans here possessed a severe disagreement, and the protocols of this impromptu assembly – gathered without any foreknowledge on the part of the humans – were the only reasons why bullets haven't started flying.

In hindsight, perhaps Link's aforementioned optimism was premature.

"…their plan is in motion, but we are buying time with the assembling of this council."

Link missed it at first. A large part of it, of course, was the fact that he had not expected it; having spent hours listening to zorans talk only in their own insular dialects unless they were forced to address him or Jessica somehow, he was admittedly not of a mindset that was prepared to register the fact that Interlingua was suddenly being spoken. That being said, even when the fact dawned upon him in realization, it still took him several seconds to work out precisely what that – Interlingua being spoken, unannounced – meant down _here_.

"Old rivalries will make it a difficult vote," continued the clearly zoran voice, the tone calm and respectful, having sounded distant and faraway before but now getting closer and closer, "but most of us are not interested in agitating Valent more than we have to. A show of goodwill…"

The flashes of green in the crowd of bluish-gray surprised both sides. There weren't just one but _two_ sets of green fatigues when the chamber suddenly began to fall silent, the zorans around them ceasing in their conversations to watch the accidental, unexpected joining. Because while no one had intended it for it to happen, because while no one actually knew what the other side had done prior to events leading up to now, it did not stop Link from suddenly coming face-to-face with a young, male Valentine intelligence major.

Link reacted almost instantly even as Durandara shouted a warning into his ear, but the Valentine intelligence officer wasn't slow on the uptake either. Nor, in the fact, was everyone around them, because one instant Link had saw an unwelcome shade of green, and the next instant guns were raised and pointed at anyone and everyone in a massive standoff that Link had never seen since the Limborough Raid. The zorans had weapons up to, pointed at each and every imaginable direction, lethal intent somehow divided by some kind of tribal lines Link did not recognize, lines that he quickly realized were irrelevant to him due to the likelihood he would die instantly the moment guns started firing.

The Hylian had a clear line of fire to his target, but it was a split-second later that he realized that the enemy major did not. Partially obscuring his view of his target but mostly hiding Link from the Valentine intelligence officer was the familiar tan uniform upon the slender frame of a Gerudo MICO major. Her guns akimbo, Jessica had positioned herself right in front of Link, giving him a clear shot over her shoulder, but largely shielding him from the Valentine officer. The handgun in her left hand was pointed at the enemy's chest, while the right hand angled her assault rifle to the side in preparation to cut down a group of zorans with guns pointed far too close towards them for anyone's comfort. The Valentine major didn't bother to try and edge to the side to get a better shot; he simply kept both of them pinned with the threat of violence.

With one hand, there was no way Jessica could fire her assault rifle accurately. At this range, it didn't matter. If a firefight were to break out at that moment as was, there was no chance she would survive, and Link's chances were minimal as well; she was wearing body armor, but the vest wouldn't be able to deflect every round. They'd be riddled with dozens of bullets before their bodies hit the floor. But the threat, the deterrence, was as clear as day: If she was going down, she was going to take as many zorans with her as possible.

Despite the tension, there was an eerie sense of palpable calm amongst the aggressors. The zorans, however, seemed to have special mention; Link felt tense, and Jessica, too, was breathing bit harder than she'd otherwise be. The Valentine major largely looked angry and focused. But almost every zoran around him, despite having assault rifles pointed at each other, were frighteningly ice-cool, almost completely stoic. In fact, Driver looked more _annoyed_ than anything.

"Woman." Veteran had spoken in a remarkably calm but stern voice in Interlingua to Jessica, probably because she was the non-zoran in the room who currently had her hands on the most firepower, at least when compared to Link's gunsword and the Valentine major's handgun. "Lower your weapon."

On the other side, another zoran – there were enough indicators to tell Link that this was definitely someone from another tribe – stepped beside Steven, his message the same but his tone more placating. "Steven, this is not the proper place."

Link did his best to prevent a frown from creasing upon his brow to betray any hint that he had caught onto something. He couldn't recognize the divisions of the zoran race – assuming that they lived in units of tribes, in any case – and therefore did not know precisely who was on his side and who wasn't save Veteran and Driver, but the ones beside the Valentine major – Steven, his name was – were uniformly pointing guns _away_ from him, as if defending him, while the one that had implored him to defuse hostilities had spoken in a tone – as far as Link could discern zoran tones – that implied non-hostile familiarity, if not friendliness. Precisely what it said about Valent's strategic assets was something that Link didn't want to jump to conclusions on, but first indicators were not good at all.

Despite the words exchanged, no one lowered their weapons by a centimeter. "I cannot let them leave this place," Steven stated plainly, resolutely, his voice harder than Link would've given a man of his youth and appearance for. The Hylian himself found himself agreeing with the major's assessment in the other direction; if it didn't mean certain death for himself, he'd also ensure that Steven would not leave alive to inform his friends of Link's last known position.

"You will have your chance to plea to the Council," came the response from the zoran beside the Valentine major, a little more urgently this time. "Do not jeopardize it here."

Those words didn't seem to influence the standoff by any measure, and all the weapons were kept steadily to bear on their targets…for several moments, anyways. Finally, after what felt like agonizing hours, Steven finally began to slowly lower his weapon, and Link – realizing he had no choice if he hoped to leave this place alive for now – also cautiously followed suit, ensuring that the angle of his gunsword's descent never exceeded that of his opponent. Jessica, too, was mimicking the motion, and the zorans seemed to do so two seconds slower, apparently more invested in keeping the peace until council could be convened.

In hindsight, Link realized he could not tell what came first, the shots or the explosions.

It was good that the blasts of sound and gas happened on the other side of the chamber, because the dozen or so zorans who had otherwise would've riddled all of them with bullets had suddenly instinctively turned around in surprise at the source of the blasts. Nearly simultaneously, gunshots went off. Whether it was a deliberate, calculated act of violence, or shots fired out of panic and reflex was irrelevant, for it only generated a great domino chain effect that instantly engulfed the chamber into a sudden shooting battle. And it was good that the zorans who stood before them, the zorans that otherwise would've killed them all, had turned to see the origin of the fuss, because Jessica had also reacted by pulling the triggers of her weapons. For almost an entire second, the vision before Link exploded into a cloud of silver-purple mist as bullets drew blood everywhere. The next second, he had suddenly blacked out, the unbelievably loud sounds of gunfire going off everywhere in an enclosed chamber overpowering his sense of hearing, but his sense of vision and vertigo strangely disengaged.

It took him moments to even realize that his vision was entirely black, a state of being that disappeared only after a renewed sense of pain and aching suddenly lanced through his body. His vision returned, half of it filled with bloodstained floor, the other with the surprised face of a dead zoran that was lying beside him. Peripherally, he realized that he was lying on the ground. More pertinently, he realized a moment later that Veteran had tackled both him and Jessica onto the ground, where bullets suddenly flew about them in a heated crossfire. Driver wasn't down on the floor, but he had knelt onto one knee, and was firing his assault rifle fire into the mess.

The Hylian infiltrator barely registered the fact that this was most likely the most ridiculous firefight he had ever seen, a scene that defied virtually every rule he knew about firefights. There was no tactics about it, no formations, spaces, or fields of fire to considered. It was to be expected, what with the massive standoff earlier being the prologue, but it was still somewhat unimaginable to him that it had happened, that a chamber crammed with heavily armed, militant combatants had all suddenly decided it was time to unleash a hail of bullets everywhere. One moment, everyone had started lowering their weapons; the next moment, more than half of everyone present was dying in their own pools of blood.

In his daze, he wondered if he was actually dying on the floor along with everyone else. He knew it wasn't the case, but it was so terribly difficult to concentrate. Maybe it had to do with having his head slammed against the floor. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that it felt as if every injury in his body sustained up to now had suddenly reopened and erupted, a sensation so all-encompassing Link wasn't entirely sure if he'd ever be able to move again.

Flashes of green caught his attention, and it was only then that Link suddenly realized from whom the explosions came from. A hole in the nearby wall had been formed what must have been a tremendous amount of shaped charges applied to bypass zoran defensive positions and give straight shots into the killzone, because Valentine soldiers were beginning to move through, their assault rifle fire joining the zorans' own. The Valentine major from earlier – Steven – apparently didn't come alone.

The crossfire was somehow becoming more coherent with the introduction of another party. Although tracers still flew between various zoran groups, much of it had been redirected at the Valentine interlopers, creating an equally intense but less chaotic battle dynamic…which wasn't a particularly useful sentiment given that ballistic rounds were still bouncing everywhere, and Link felt no less in danger than before. If anything, the chances of him dying seemed even greater. He wasn't sure how the zoran rules of engagement at this point, but he was most certain that Valentine forces would be focused on him specifically once visual contact had been made. It was, in fact, probably safe to assume that Link was the sole reason why Valentine forces had been deployed _here_ to begin with.

The sensation of being pulled up by strong arms gave his body the kick-start it needed, and his bodily motor functions seemed to return as Veteran suddenly got off him, allowing him to limp onto his feet at the very least. Jessica already had a knee on the ground, picking off hostile targets – mostly Valentine soldiers that were beginning to pour in from all over the place, but also at the occasional zoran pointing their weapon a bit too close in their general direction - with her assault rifle. Bursts of fire continued to stream from her barrel until Veteran tapped her on the shoulder twice to get her attention.

"We are leaving," the zoran said blandly, letting go of Link now that the agent was on his feet, his body language demanding that the Hylian and the Gerudo follow without question. "Council will not convene tonight."

Link wondered if that was the closest thing zorans got to cracking a joke.

They began to fall back, Link and Jessica moving in standard leapfrogging maneuvers: Jessica would retreat several meters before stopping beside cover and laying down a field of covering fire by shooting anything that looked like it posed an imminent thread – which at this point looked like everything – allowing Link to fall back past her by several meters before turning around behind cover and providing covering fire so that Jessica could retreat once more. Driver took the riskier option of simply retreating backwards, shooting at everything he could see with reckless abandon and nearly no thought towards ammunition conservation…not that shooting into a crowd required much of that.

Veteran, on the other hand, simply briskly moved his way through the chamber, almost as if he was marching briskly though the firefight. To Link and Jessica, it was a surreal sight, a sign of utter overconfidence and a disregard to one's own safety. The Hylian thought it was insane, but it peripherally occurred to him that this was perhaps a product of a mindset that had understood this as the sudden oversaturation of bullets, and the acceptance that if one was going to get hit, one was going to get hit.

It certainly didn't stop Link from staying low, however.

In hindsight, the Hylian realized that he had lost the Valentine major in the chaos. He would've pumped several rounds into Steven's skull first thing as soon as he had ascertained the situation, but somewhere in between those two hypothetical events, he had been knocked to the ground to avoid the crisscrossing fields of fire passing above him. After that, Major Steven was lost in a sea of grayish-blue and green. The Joint Intelligence agent wanted to hiss out some kind of curse for letting the man get away…but realized that – with Valentine military forces already attacking this particular spot – trying to silence Steven would not have repaired any damage that had already been inflicted. Putting as much distance between himself and here was now infinitely more important.

The battle was now developing into a ring of fire. Even as Link's group moved into a retreat, the surviving fireteams were moving towards the walls where there was better cover instead of in the center where they would be caught by crisscrossing lines of fire. Movement was still fluid, however, with the zorans engaged in a fighting retreat while the Valentine infantrymen pressed their advantage. From beyond the hole in which Valentine soldiers were pouring in, Link thought he could hear the deep thuds of at least two autocannons in the distance. That likely meant Valentine IFVs on ground level. This was a large-scale, coordinated assault, not a simple infantry raid.

Miraculously, the four had somehow made it to the walls of the chamber, getting close to one of the chamber's side exits, a door – possibly the same door they had entered the chamber from – that led into a corridor with cloisters of metallic pipes. It was here that Link noticed that a lot of the zoran children who had been observing the proceedings of the council that never gathered had, in fact, gathered by these doorways…but instead of fleeing, they remained by these exits, poised to flee, but not actually doing so. Link didn't have long to ponder this phenomenon, however, not when he watched Driver pass by the children, through the doorframe, and suddenly come under ambush of a zoran that had been hiding right behind the door. It was fortunate for Driver that his assailant was wielding a KS-74 assault rifle in the narrow confines of the corridor; the weapon wasn't brought up swiftly or smoothly enough, allowing Driver to deflect the weapon as if they were engaged in melee combat. The two locked their guns as if they were clubs, trying to force the other to lose their footing. Link knew they needed to move forward, that they couldn't be stalled here, but even with his gunsword raised in handgun mode, he didn't have a clean shot, not with Driver in the way.

Then he got a break; the zoran assailant managed to thrust Driver back, causing the latter to trip and fall on his back. That would've gave Link a free shot to his target, who was aiming his KS-74 at the stunned Driver, but already another zoran had moved into position with alarming alacrity. Veteran's movements were fluid: A shot to the kneecap that caused the hostile zoran to stumble forward, a knee to the head that sent the enemy staggering and falling onto his back, and then a burst of automatic gunfire to the chest. All of it delivered with smooth, practiced motions. He moved over to the body, pulled the trigger twice more, turning what had once been a zoran head into messy splatters of flesh and blood, and then pulled the KS-74 from the corpse's hands.

To the side, Driver was getting up once more, scowling as he prowled ahead without any regard to how Veteran may very well have saved his life right then and there. Moving through the door and down the corridor, he continued to act as point-man, even as Veteran suddenly shoved the KS-74 into the hands of one of the zoran children he recognized, said something in that clipped language that was the zoran tongue with damning calmness. Link couldn't understand, but merely watched with some degree of shock as the child – surely she was no older than thirteen – fell onto a knee to a firing position, removed the magazine of the assault rifle, and inspected the clip, even as Veteran began to usher Link and Jessica out of the chamber and into the corridor. "Go," he stated.

Jessica cast a startled look back even as she was pushed past the door. "Did you just…?" she began, her gaze turned just as the girl reinserted the magazine of bullets into as assault rifle. She didn't get any further than that, however, as Veteran simply slammed the door shut behind them once the team had passed through, locking the door, and barring it with a metallic pipe nearby. From the other side, they could hear a new set of automatic fire coming from a spot close to the door.

As if to prevent his "guests" from thinking too much about it, the Veteran whirled around immediately after ensuring no one would pass through the door, settling that steely calm look upon Link and Jessica…but largely Link. "Our deal stands," came the even, metallic voice. "We're taking you north to destroy Jormungand." A pause for emphasis, then, "Do we have a problem?"

* * *

Steven resembled little of the intelligence major he actually was when he finally climbed out of the utilities staircase leading up from the sewer system and into the streets, helped by a corporal who seemed to be convinced he was injured. The red that flowed down his forehead and formed a small stream across his face and down his neck seemed to largely be highlighted against the silver-purple stains of zoran blood that matted against his green fatigues. Dust, dirt, and soot covered his being, and he looked more like someone caught in the peripheral of a bombing than someone who had been at ground-zero of a massive shootout.

The intelligence major waved the corporal off, however, complete with a jerk of his elbow away from the soldier's supporting hands. The enlisted man backed off; for all his control, it was not difficult to tell that Steven was furious.

Processions of armored Valentine vehicles continued to roll down the street as he walked down the surface world, indicating how much manpower and firepower had been diverted here on short notice. It was still nighttime, although the first light of dawn would likely encompass the area within an hour or two. Despite such, the derelict Hylian city of Trident looked like it had been transformed into a staging area within minutes, a feat only accomplishable with sufficient paygrade to move so many units and so much resources in a near-instant manner.

It did not require an intelligence agent to figure out the only two logical candidates for this effort.

Turning a corner on the city block, which gave him enough time to cool his head enough to begin processing thoughts dispassionately, Steven began to seek out a sufficiently high-ranking officer to point him to wherever the field headquarters was, but found rather quickly that it wasn't necessary. A humvee had pulled up next to him, a sergeant stepping out from the passenger's seat almost instantly as the vehicle came to a halt. "Major, sir," the officer gave a crisp nod; he knew better than to salute an officer in an active battlefield. "I've been instructed by Major Juno to transport you to the mobile command center."

_As I thought_, Steven thought, suppressing what would've otherwise been a very evident grimace, wondering how the fellow intelligence officers managed to become aware of his presence within so short a time. "Very well," he replied simply, getting into the rear seat of the vehicle, knowing full well that asking this sergeant anything would likely be a waste of time; the man likely didn't actually know anything. He knew this cloak-and-dagger game.

As the vehicle began to speed down the now-active streets of Trident, Steven juggled his thoughts between damage control with the zorans and the military presence that was cleaning up in Trident. Judging by telltale signs of the ensuing military operation, he ventured a guess that this was a unit that was mobilized mere hours ago from an outpost nearby. _No_, he observed, spotting different insignias on the uniform of the men he passed by. _Several different companies, most likely from several different outposts_. The thought that Juno could simultaneous manage command and logistics of several companies in tandem in response to an emergency situation – and presumably with little in the way of warning or prior exercises – was almost mind-boggling to Steven, and served only to emphasize how much he lagged behind in terms of experience.

Or, really, he would've cared a lot more if he wasn't a little bit more concerned about not getting furious with Juno about ruining his chances to having ended everything tonight.

When Steven's ride finally came to a halt, he found himself stepping out of the humvee and staring at the doorway of a mobile command center in front of him. To the fleeting glance, the large vehicle looked more like a large semi-trailer truck or some kind of armored bus, but the officer knew that a more apt description was more along the lines of an armored personnel carrier. Designed to fit a small command staff and all necessary electronic equipment to respond to a situation where conventional outposts couldn't be deployed, the vehicle was nevertheless armored just as well as any other APC or IFV, and possessed deceptively agile transportation capabilities that allowed it to traverse rough roads that would've otherwise been closed to trucks.

There was also the peripheral understanding that the mobile command center was, strictly speaking, unnecessary; the closest outpost, Steven knew, was not so far that standard communications and command equipment could not allow Juno to direct operations from the comfort and safety of a distant tent. That she chose to be here at all – that she went through the trouble of diverting this much resources so she could personally take command on-site – spoke volumes.

Ascending the short flight of stairs leading up to the side entrance of the command center, Steven nimbly stepped into its interior; the lighting within was dim save the glow from multicomputer computer screens on both sides of the wall. The interior was almost like a hallway, command and intelligence officers sitting on computers to the sides, coordinating the detailed aspects of the operation while the familiar-looking commanding officer strode back and forth down the aisle, keeping an eye on the proceedings as her focused glare moved swiftly from one monitor to another. So focused, in fact, that she did not initially notice Steven's arrival even as she gave updated orders to one of the officers for relay to ground forces. "Negative," she was stating assertively. "Disengage and withdraw, but tag the structure for a surgical air strike. The zorans are not our concern."

The impatient tapping of Steven's booted foot finally attracted Juno's attention after a few seconds of operational management, causing the latter to inhale deeply and straighten up; she did not expect the former to be anything other than upset. Etiquette and good breeding were holding back youthful anger and frustration, something Juno supposed she should be thankful for. She could always file incriminating reports later, but being on the receiving end of a punch to the face was not precisely an experience that she preferred to have repeated often, even with the promise of swift vindication. Military intelligence wasn't precisely a field of work that endeared officers to the average man, including their own.

"Let's calm down before we jump to any hasty conclusions," Juno was already saying as she got within conversational range of Steven, getting her first words out. Several officers spared the upcoming altercation a glance or two, but otherwise maintained focus on their work; it testified as to their professionalism, but if Steven had watched them more carefully, he might've seen that several of those looks betrayed the fact that these were officers familiar with Juno, having worked with her before. _Her_ people, in a sense.

Steven was beyond caring, though. The only reason why he didn't blow up immediately was because he caught sight of two persons in the peripheral of his vision that made him hesitate. A large, well-built man that looked like he was a mercenary out of a horrid warzone, the other a relatively small and definitely young girl carrying what looked like a giant kukri. Both looked like they were from Gerudo, which made Steven wonder precisely what they were doing here in the command center of an all-important Valentine military intelligence major.

Whatever his concerns were, however, Juno merely said when he noticed Steven's distraction, "They're with me."

Under most other circumstances, Steven probably would've asked for an elaboration, or at least something _more_ than just "they're with me". Unidentified Gerudo mercenaries working for Valentine intelligence, however, were pretty far down the list of his priorities at the moment, however, and that aspect was forgotten in favor of addressing the standing issue of Juno being _here_, ruining an operation that had been this close to shutting down the infiltrator once and for all. "What the hell was that supposed to be?" he demanded hotly, his temper barely kept in check.

For someone who had blown an operation out of the water, Juno was infuriatingly calm, almost cold as she ruthlessly replied, "Tying up loose ends."

The younger intelligence major had a feeling that he would've laughed at how preposterous the response was had he not snapped right there, "I was handling the situation! Everything was under control!"

But, again, cold calmness: "And you neglected to inform anyone of your solo operation."

"Did you not go solo yourself?" That came out almost as a sneer, in the best tradition of feuding intelligence officers. "Where have you been that I couldn't contact you?"

"Some measure of confidentiality is required for the line of work we're in," Juno sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose to alleviate some of the fatigue in her eyes before settling a glare at Steven that actually made him hesitate for a moment. "However, I update _my_ logs when I've made breakthroughs or am about to conduct military operations of any scale, such as _this one_." She took one step closer. "Wouldn't someone have wanted to know that you were going into zoran territory all on your own?"

Steven wanted to ask precisely when Juno had ever updated her logs with "breakthroughs", but bit his tongue when he realized that, for all intents and purposes, this one might very well be her very first breakthrough…coinciding with his own, for that matter.

"Not to mention it seems you've been in bed with the zorans," continued the older intelligence officer, and _that_, Steven knew, was going to be a little harder for him to justify. "That I don't know about this seems to mean when the National Defense Committee also does not know about this, especially since I find this _very_ relevant to the investigation at hand." She clasped her hands behind her, but her expression remained stern, almost condescending. "Did you think that _maybe_ we could've made use of the fact that we're in a shooting war with the zorans?"

"The zorans are _not_ our enemies," Steven cleared with a sigh. Trying to calm down, his concern about the two mercenaries in the corner grew, but it was still largely dwarfed by the more pressing issue that there was a lot to confirm, a lot to corroborate on if he didn't want to sink his career…starting with the zorans, naturally. "They're not our allies either, but I was told – off-the-record, to the point where it was simply not relevant at the time – that a sufficiently large collective of zoran tribes are not interested in being involved in this war, and that they wouldn't mind watching Hyrule and Gerudo burn."

Juno pursed her lips, her expression stoic and betraying just hints of doubt and suspicion, sentiments that were only skin-deep. Inside, however, her mind was racing at a near-panic, trying to corroborate the new information that was now coursing through her mind. It had never occurred to her that the zorans might have a stake in this conflict; for all that she knew and the National Defense Committee knew, they were going to sit on the sidelines, in their reserves, powerless to intervene in any way against forces so much greater than them. That's what _everyone_ believed. And yet this green intelligence major who was promoted more for his family connections than his actual family capabilities had _always_ had this channel with the zorans, and knew what their agenda was, their plans, tribal dynamics, everything. What else _didn't_ Juno know? What else was of such importance to their campaign in the north? _And how does all this – zoran tribal conflicts, poorly-armed guerilla fighters, and Steven's stake in the whole thing – factor in with Jormungand?_

"That was why I approached them first," Steven continued, misunderstanding the pause in Juno's momentum. "They were passive observers first, but I was able to learn through personal connections that certain groups of zorans _are_ assisting the enemy, and that there are also groups that oppose them."

There was a general moment of silence after these words, the two intelligence majors locking glares at each other, but with a much different dynamic than when Steven first came in. They were all now assessing their options, seeing what came next. Even the officers around them micromanaging Valentine mop-up operations here had paused to watch and listen, only half-heartedly concentrating on their command and control tasks. They, too, were intelligence officers, and recognized Steven's sudden worth, a treasure trove of previously unknown information.

Finally, with slow, deliberate cautiousness, Juno elected to speak first. "I'm willing to chalk all this up as a big misunderstanding and move on," she allowed, her voice a little softer than before but no less serious. "This is not a lost cause." She gestured towards one of the screens in the command center, showing what seemed to be a digital map of the area and a small, moving convoy of Valentine vehicles moving rapidly north. "We have pursuit parties tracking the escapees right now, and if you understand the zorans as well as I think you do, I could use your help in tracking them down and neutralizing the infiltrator in the same stroke." Her intense gaze once again settled on Steven. "Are you with me?"

Under the eyes of a dozen men and women in the room, the intelligence majors fell into a deliberative silence, the next hour or so of operations questionably dependent on the conclusion arrived upon by these two officers who had moreorless been given a blank check by the Valentine military. Quiet, stoic contemplation, striking a pragmatic, reasonable balance amongst thoughts and emotions on the matter.

But the truth was that a conclusion had already been reached before the path to arrive at one had begun. A predetermined answer: One had been found long before the question was posed. And that was why Steven was already removing his gloves and taking off his tattered coat – it was quickly relieved from his arms by a staff officer – as he gave Juno a firm nod of conviction.

"Let's take this son of a bitch down."

* * *

**Exoria File #027  
Excerpt from Section Four, "Analysis of Zoran Militant Capability in the Late 15****th**** Century (April 14, 1506 a.s.r.)"**

"A perspective into zoran militant organization is inseparable from their post-Crusades culture. Although a debate can be formed in terms of whether or not the zorans possessed a militant culture even before the Crusades, this reputation was solidified during the Crusades as merely a matter of practical strategy in asymmetrical warfare: Zorans launching preemptive strikes on an enemy before the latter can launch a first blow, but on terrain in which they possessed a disadvantage. The so-called 'indiscriminate warfare' was a ruthless symptom of a broader and alarmingly effective strategy, preventing enemy campaigns by destroying the countryside and denying regional lords from accumulating the resources needed to launch military campaigns. After two Zoran Crusades, what had become a strategic consideration eventually crossed over the low cultural barrier between the citizenry and the military; support at home solidified the acceptance of enemy civilians as legal targets specifically and the necessity of ruthless action generally.

Zoran fighters do not recognize traditional military units, and instead consider only three major social units: The self, the tribe, and the species. This is tied inexorably into history seen from the zoran point of view, in which human activities during and following the Crusades have pitted the world, not only the zoran race, into a state of imperialist crisis. As such, any activity, no matter how morally reprehensible, is acceptable in the face of victory. Not unlike many historical warrior cultures, zoran society retains a sense of valiant honor and is aversive to falsehood, but extension of this attitude towards humanity is unlikely, given expectations that such values will not be reciprocated. The value of life is made a trivial concern beside the survival of the species, and although the paradigm shift in recent decades has strengthened inter-tribal conflict as to the future direction of the zorans, it is generally understood and expected that every zoran should and will give their life for the cause, regardless of age or sex. This is not to say that the zorans are suicidal, but they are more willing to engage in acts possessing higher risks with promises of greater benefit for the tribe of the species.

The zoran lack of conventional organization of military units translates into a diminished effectiveness in fighting as a team, as each zoran warrior operates as a lone wolf, banding together under ideological convenience as opposed to a component of the team. However, this mentality makes them self-reliant, highly capable, and utterly fanatic. Individual warriors are armed with the cultural ideology of their hard race: Only the survival of their species and tribe is considered a cost too great for any sacrifice, and mothers don't hesitate in sending their underage children to fight if it is deemed necessary…"

* * *

Author's Note: I have no excuse for this one. I know it's been an inexcusably long time since my last update, and I don't think any apology really cuts it at this point. The reasons are really par-of-course, really: Work, writer's block, depression, real life, _Mass Effect 3_, the last of which should be obvious when you realize that I have four new _Mass Effect_ fics, yet no _Exoria_ update. I want to reassure you that _Exoria_ is far from dead, and that I will do what I can to ensure the updates go on. That said, real life has been throwing curveballs for the past few months now, and while I'm trying to do what I can, I think my muse is beginning to take casualties. I will do what I can to update at reasonable frequencies, but I understand if I've used up my credit at this point.

Heavenly Observer: _My only real complaint is that Steven appeared to be horribly gender confused in this chapter. 'He' switches to 'she' sometimes within the same sentence._

_So Steven FINALLY gets a leg up due to unusual connections with the Zora. Looking forward to how he managed to 'honour' the Zorans enough to have a personal friend amongst them, though this particular one seems more 'assimilated' into human culture than the ones that picked up Link. I'm basing that on the fact he doesn't have crazy tats and is wearing swimming trunks. Why do they hug his torso? I'm a little confused..._

_I've said it once, I'll say it again, the half-brother is alive. Chekhov's Gun. Seriously, a month ago he goes off on some mission, doesn't return and then Valent invades with a ridiculous amount of success. The three superweapons can't take all the credit for that._

_Huh, so we might find out where Link gets his awesome gunsword skills from. Never really thought about it really, but I guess a specialised weapon like that isn't something you just pick-up self-train yourself in. Not to mention manufacturing one like Link's is probably fairly expensive._

I have no idea how I managed to mess up so horribly on pronouns. Also, I meant "hips", not "torso". Thank you very much; I've fixed all instances that I've found, and those mistakes should be gone by the time you read this. Steven shall feel insecure about his gender no more.

"Assimilation" notwithstanding, the note I want to make here is that zorans are not a single culture. There are different tribes, different groups, each with their own minor differences in culture and mentalities. An American southern rural conservative may feel a bit offended at being mistaken as an American cosmopolitan left-leaning liberal (and vice-versa), but they're ultimately all Americans. On the same vein, however, despite both being American, they're also both vastly different. So you might say I'm trying to give them nuanced-yet-obvious indicators that different groups our unique, even if – without the proper zoran context – we are generally incapable of making good observations and conclusions on such.

I'll remain silent about your theory on Zelda's half-brother, but I would make mention that Alexandria's current search will lead – somewhere somewhat far down the road – to somewhat interesting revelations. Just hang onto that tidbit for a while; I'm not including that for no reason.

Thank you for your review, and being kind enough to spot out my mistakes.

FrancisGunther: _Gah, image enhancement. At least you limited it to plausible stuff, no magic rotation or 5-pixel reflections turning into crystal-clear mugshots._

_Your spelling is mostly fine. I only noticed a few errors, like "blitzkrief" when you wanted "blitzkrieg". You have a tendency to mix up prepositions, though I can't remember any specific examples right now._

_This part of the story is starting to drag on a bit. Link isn't doing anything important, and the "Valent investigates" subplot is less interesting than Link. The investigators are mostly just following the obvious leads and reaching conclusions we could see coming. It looks like there might be some sort of intrigue approaching, maybe a leak or some sort of power play, but if so, it might have been a better idea to start that in this chapter._

My typo rate has truly gone up, and I really need to do something about it eventually. Reading what I write sounds like a very good idea, if I weren't so hell-bent on just getting a very, very late chapter uploaded.

I am largely aware of how image enhancement works; I do know, for example, that three-dimensional rotation and ridiculously-precise image enhancement is impossible. However, I have depicted computers in the universe of _Exoria_ to be a bit more advanced and sleek that the ones we have in real life, and that they are better at "making guesses" in regards to image enhancement than our computers are. I work with Photoshop occasionally, so I know how this kind of thing works. I'm glad my efforts to depict plausible imagery enhancements have been noticed, though.

And, yes, I am beginning to notice that the Valentine investigation subplot is turning out to be a bit more difficult to portray and remain relevant than I had initially imagined. This will be something of a learning experience, but I will attempt to salvage what I can and try to have them remain competent and interesting.

Peter200lx: _The quality of writing and hours of enjoyment that you have given me require that I reciprocate in at least small way and give you thanks for the time you've put into this story. I've read the entire story over the last few weeks, and have finally caught up. Now I must painfully join the ranks of those who are waiting on new chapters instead of having more story ready to read._

_I could echo the praise from many users on the qualities of this work, not the least of which is a non-immersion breaking movement of such a beloved world into the modern age. It feel up to date without stretching too far and losing its roots. The characterizations of the classic villains and heroes feels true, and the added individuals give your own flavor to the mix. Durandara feels like your adventuring companion from the games, and Epona is a great replacement for the required horse._

_Not to press a point that has already been covered in multiple author's notes, but I do feel like the handling of the death of Lily was a weak point. The story thread hit hard, and honestly worked in that it showed how invested I had become in the story. It did feel wrong that both link and the jerk escaped unharmed, especially as a portion of the given reason that link survived was that he ran "fast and low". That whole paragraph about the average "height" of a firefight broke the story thread for me. Added to that your defense on the grounds of it breaks the common plot trope, felt like you were rubbing her death in the readers face. Again, the death actually drew me into the story and I would have been fine (although pained with) it, and it gave me pause, but the combination of the argument for Link's safety and the OoC plot trope subversion argument hurt your case. However, I've dwelled to long on the one part I had issue with, so let me turn to other topics._

_In fact my favorite plot element was in chapter 24. (This might have to do with it being more recent causing me to remember it better). The conversion from mercenary and boomerang girl with a highly disturbing relationship into the harsh but understandable story of Kashim and Aisha was incredibly well done. I might have been a bit more touchy on the topic of disturbing relationships because of an article I had just recently read (Metroid: Other M - The Elephant in the Room) which talks about how badly things are portrayed in that game. Anyways, I was getting red flags put up in my mind, and was starting to question what was going on just at the time that you gave their back-story. This gave a very solid reason why neither of them was entirely responsible for the situation while not denying that it was a bad dynamic. I was so satisfied with your handling of the situation that I used shared my experience with multiple friends, including the one who had sent me the Metroid article._

_In closing, I wish to express my thanks once again for this incredible work, and my desire to read more. I know you have work outside of writing for a much of random Internet strangers, and so I do not wish to try and increase the pressure on you. However, know that I will gladly look forward to any more chapters you are able to write and share with the world._

I must apologize for the time it has taken me to get back to your review. The last few months have been a trying force against literary progress, and I promise to provide an explanation with the next update, which I also promise _will_ come. You will likely not be impressed with it, but it will be an explanation nonetheless.

First, I am honored and humbled by your praise. While it is true that I have a good deal of confidence in my world-building skills, this applies mostly to original universes. _Exoria_ provided a unique challenge in which the original world must also have a specific amount of ties with canon, not so similar that it is staid and a mere cookie-cutter replication of a canon world, but also not so different that readers cannot connect with _Zelda_ canon. I am often insecure of how well I have accomplished this and where I have made mistakes, but I am always relieved and thrilled when I am told that I have done acceptably. For that, I thank you for taking the time for telling me.

It's been quite a long time since I wrote Lily's death, sufficient time for me to look back and take indulge in very long periods of contemplation over the issue. In what I hope is hindsight from an older, more mature writer (and certainly with a lot of help from other insightful and fair writers), I do agree that Lily's death was largely motivated in large part by a combination of contempt for Hollywood-esque writing and a desire to be "edgier". It was a result partly incited by a sense of elitism, and that much has been fairly clear.

Clearly, the motivation was not at its best. In contrast, would I have changed or prevented Lily's death? I do not think I would've. That event was fueled by other _correct_ motivations, and still has future and more _personal_ implications – important because there will be a significant time in _Exoria_ when the threat of continental war drifts away in place for more _personal_ demons – and it has succeeded in establishing narrative tones I wish in my story, something that will recur in the future: "This is not a story in which everyone lives. This is not a story in which everyone gets a 'happily ever after'. This is not a story where cowards always meet their comeuppance, and the innocent always survive to see another day. This is a story of war, politics, hope, loss, people at their best, people at their worst. This is _Exoria_."

But, as I said before, the motivation was wrong, so the author's note at the end was wrong. Of all the things I could've emphasized about the motivations of my decision, I chose the most egotistic one, and things are now what they are now. I will not, however, change what I've written, a decision hopefully understood as one not out of hubris, but of humility. I have written what I have written, and I will take responsibility for them; even at the risk of alienating readers – which I have successfully done already in the past – I will let them see what occurred in my mind at the time, and let them judge for themselves whether the story is still worth reading. Hopefully, when they have chosen to continue and reach this point, they will accept this explanation of mine.

I have never played _Metroid: Other M_, but the mention of "The Elephant in the Room" did get me to go take a look. Not having played the game myself or watched its story, I am reluctant to make any final judgment calls myself or confirm whether or not the article was subject to exaggeration, but I understand the thrust of your concerns after having read it. I admit I have a somewhat morbid fascination with unhealthy, problematic relationships narratively, but I will be the first to say that they're not glamorous, and that my interest largely lies in how actual loving individuals in difficult relationships can end up making them work _right_. Therefore, no, in no way will I glamorize or romanticize the relationship between the two, and Kashim feels the same way. Aisha, of course, feels very differently, but…well, we do not believe her opinion is formed from the best of positions.

Your review has invoked quite a bit of thought from me, so I hope my response is adequate. I thank you for being patient with me, and hope you will be as kind (and as fairly critical) when future updates come.

kumiya: _I read your fic in the past handful of days. This fic really tapped my action addiction. A creative blend of Shadow of the Colossus with a Zelda flair set in "Modern Warfare" (if only the title). It couldn't have worked better. _

_I really appreciate your characterization of Zelda. My favorite part was when she had just gotten into Garuda and, despite just gone through the motorcycle chase of her life, acts like a true strong leader of her country. She just whips all the tiredness and weepiness and away for "POW! Bring it on!" And gets a kiss on the hand by GANONDORF! She's regal and cunning but kind and down to earth and with a super strong human will like no other. While Link is a obviously a Determinator, it is Zelda, who seems more human and less conditioned, that gets to me. And best of all SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE'S DOING. She's got brains! It's delightful to see a woman in this role._

_I love the gunsword. Classy. And Epona, the trusty steed of true WIN. If I had a favorite character, it's definitely Epona._

_Link is a pretty awesome, wordless warrior. I appreciate how stoic and unstoppable he is in this fic, but I feel it would be beneficial to see more weakness, either physically or emotionally (probably the first, but the second isn't out of the question). I do have a feeling we're getting there though. I was rather baffled when Link handled Anansi without a scratch. I could not suspend my disbelief, despite him have to do various dangerous stunts. So I was deeply satisfied to read that he was going to have it a lot harder the second time around. I liked how you wasted absolutely no time showing us how much harder it is. I almost thought they were going to get him (several times)! And almost disappointed that they didn't (is that bad of me?). Something in me totally wants him to get captured. I'm not sure why. Maybe so Zelda can rescue him?_

_Your greatest skill by far is making me want to know WTF IS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT! All the way from the chapter when Link and Zelda were on a wild motorcycle chase (WILL THEY ESCAPE) to Ganondorf (WHAT IS HE PLOTTING, IS HE EVIL?) to Anansi (CAN HE DO IT? WILL HE GET CAUGHT? WILL HE BE UTTERLY SQUASHED?) to being chased all over again (WHEN IS LINK GOING TO GET SHANKED!)_

_Your fic is so exciting, I actually had a dream involving Exoria the other night. I dreamt that I was in the tall grass like Link had been, sniping people with a big gun. At some point a person walked by me, and I wasn't sure it was an infiltrator or a friend (they also waved at me and I was super unsure what to do… sorta like those low-ranked Valentine soldiers). Then at a certain point I got spotted by enemy forces (while being distracted by the infiltrator/friend) and started having to run and dodge bullets. Let's just say I enjoyed this dream a lot more than Link enjoys being an amazingly high profile target for the enemy forces. _

_I have really high standards for writing, and currently I find your latest style (in the latest chapters of Exoria) to be rather wordy. I feel there are lots of chunks that seem awkward or unnecessary or repetitive. However, I feel that you have improved a lot, a lot, so much, since your first chapter published 2 years ago. I found your fic recced on tvtropes and was very excited by the concept, but I almost stopped reading upon your first paragraph. As the fic pressed onwards though, you style became less wordy and more addressed to the core elements of the narrative, something that I felt greatly enhanced the rigorous action scenes and moved things along quicker in an urgent fashion (it's war after all!). I believe your writing is the strongest in terms of your ability to describe the warfare. The vocabulary and pacing of the action scenes are strong points and definitely add a swift kick to things._

_BTW, your action scenes are great! I seriously could not stop reading this fic. My eyes would become really tired but still I would just read on! And the next day would be the same thing! I just love how the danger never stops. It looks like Link is in the clear BUT NOOOO!_

_Your OCs… there's a lot of them. This… bothers me to a point because compared to the center characters I don't really feel interested in them at all. I'll admit sometimes when I feel there's nothing particularly important happening I skim over their parts. Jessica irks me. Her naïve honesty, incompetence and attempted helpfulness doesn't strike a chord with me. Her meek moments especially don't do well. She's sort of like a… young, hapless chick, in contrast to other female characters who are like, dunno, war hawks… Rather I just keep wondering why she keeps showing up. The subtle sexual attraction doesn't help either. It just makes me raise an eyebrow, and perhaps I give a sigh. But if there is an OC I like it has to be Stranger C (and Aisha by extension). His backstory (which I found to be well-written, helpful to your universe's concept, and emotional) shows that he has real stakes in this war, and makes me sympathetic towards him._

_Oh, and Ganondorf. I really like your characterization of him too. Really. It surprised me. Whenever Link Ganon were in the same room I kept wanting to start fighting each other. But Ganondorf is so polite, and so powerful. Link is awesomely awkward in these scenes. I feel so awkward too. Fabulous :D I really wonder what he's up to right now. He seems to have been missing from the main action. We really don't get to see him that much._

_I was very sad to reach this last available chapter. I saw your note on your author profile, and I wish you best of luck at settling your real life setbacks. It's been a great pleasure being able to read Exoria, and I do hope you have the time and motivation to continue your story._

I try rather hard not to let reviews get to my ego _too_ much – reviews are great as morale-raisers, but never let them make you complacent in your writing – but while I have been honored by a lot of praise, I think "I've _dreamt_ of your story" is probably the most astonishing, overwhelming praise I've ever received from a reviewer. For that, I thank you most graciously, and I hope I will continue to meet your expectations.

If I must name influences, then – yes – _Exoria_'s "style", so to speak, is probably based off plenty of inspirations, chief among them _Final Fantasy_, _Metal Gear Solid_, _Modern Warfare_, and _Shadow of the Colossus_. These sources of inspiration are quite removed from the _Zelda_ franchise in general, which is why much care was given to ensure that the story itself is still relatable to the canon from which it is derived. _Exoria_ is indeed something of a very far-off sequel to _Zelda_ canon, so it is in my best interests to keep everything relevant.

I'm also quite happy that my depiction of Zelda is to your liking. It is admittedly a personal thing, but I find myself often dissatisfied with the narrative relevance of female characters in the modern media, where they are often depicted as emotional, paralyzed by pressure, and otherwise insecure; even attempts to avoid such stereotypes has developed into a female character who is meant to be "strong", but ends up looking either like she's overcompensating with masculine behavior or like she's a male fantasy. Zelda in _Exoria_ is something of a personal character challenge: Quite feminine, but also extremely competent, very analytical, rather empathetic, quite ruthless, and highly flawed. It is perhaps an example that is more "driven" and "cynical" than the basis from which I draw this character, but I would not think that Zelda from _Twilight Princess_ would be a poor example in this instance.

Although I'm slightly perplexed that Epona has become your "favorite character", I'm nevertheless glad you have appreciated her iteration here as a next-generation military reconnaissance motorcycle.

Link's lack of speech and his ability to adapt to hostile conditions are actually fairly integral to the story from two primary aspects. The first is to give the story a bit more of a bump towards the mature spectrum in storytelling. Most _Zelda_ games portray Link as a skilled and powerful warrior who nevertheless has a very clear-cut sense of morality and wears his heart on his sleeve. _Exoria_'s Link is very evidently more low-key, resembling more of a professional, clandestine soldier than a knight of noble principles. Depicting him as a competent, quiet agent provides a bit of a paradigm shift to the character of Link as he's traditionally portrayed. At the same time, however, his character in this story is not without its narrative relevance, and although it's still quite a while away, I can assure you that there are reasons behind his behavior beyond "professional standards". A major hint, in fact, will be dropped in Chapter Twenty-Six. Stay tuned.

I admit I'm largely shameless in using cliffhangers as a narrative tool. I'm aware of my wordiness, however, and I'm still practicing on the economizing of words; on one hand, I feel that highly descriptive environments and conditions are quite necessary to properly provide an accurate tactical description of the battlefield (or even everyday conditions), but successive pieces of advice from far more talented authors has begun to take effect, and I'm trying to go with what's most important in such situations. I'm still working on it, and I'm still insecure about whether or not I've gotten my description of the situation across, but at least I know it's getting better bit by bit through reviews like yours.

Recurring original character populate the world of _Exoria_ for the obvious reason of the impracticality of centering the narrative on only Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf, as well as a disinclination to use other characters who have previously appeared in other franchises. Impa is an exception because she is a consistently recurring character, but, otherwise, I have been trying quite hard to avoid canon characters who have only shown up in a single _Zelda_ game. There is actually a major plot reason for this that won't be directly addressed in the upcoming reveals, but is an important aspect to the narrative that is being presented. I suspect I will have a lot of explaining to do when I get to those reveals. So I hope you can tolerate my original characters a bit longer as they assist – or impede – Link and his efforts to put an end to this war.

And, alas, I will have to leave you wondering about Ganondorf. He's just one of those plot elements where it's probably better if I don't answer any questions about, just so I can keep you guessing.

Once again, thank you very much for your review, and I hope you will continue to enjoy _Exoria_, even with its terrible rate of updates.


	30. Chapter Twenty-Seven

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

Awareness of firefight dynamics were fast becoming obsolete as Link continued to return fire with his gunsword, his grim countenance a reflection of the fact that gunfire seemed to be directed in every which direction, and traditional concerns of cover were being made obsolete by the mere volume and fire and its corresponding ricochets. Made worse was how he and Jessica were clearly humans, and therefore clearly standing out of the crowd as ripe targets, for which he was fairly content to stay beneath something solid and let Veteran and Driver do the fighting, a sentiment likely inspired towards his lack of awe and trust towards his allies of convenience as the four shot their way out of chamber after chamber in an attempt to return to their IFV.

It was fortunate that Veteran and Driver clearly knew what they were doing. They made sense of the chaos, knew ally from enemy, and maneuvered in ways that gave them the maximum tactical advantage, presumably surrounding them with allies that neither Link nor Jessica could identify, an issue that caused the Hylian with no shortage of frustration as they charged out of another hallway, guns blazing while Link remained low and slid right behind an unoccupied pillar supporting a hallway that looked the size of a townhouse lobby. It appeared as if hostile targets were intermixed from allied or neutral entities, because as Veteran and Driver moved behind cover and fired with their KS-74 rifles, their shots were irregular in direction, indicating the constant picking of targets. The Joint Intelligence agent, on the other hand, was simply caught flatfooted, watching everyone shoot each other with no idea of which side to pick…if there was even a side to begin with.

At least until there was a slight shimmer of his sunglasses, and suddenly Link watched certain zorans begin to glow red through the polarized lenses. "Highlighting possible hostile zorans in red based on data collected from potential identifying markers, directions in gunfire dynamics," announced Durandara, having been surprisingly quiet over the last few minutes in what Link hoped was an increased focus on gathering data on what was effectively the unknown. "This should give you an easier time."

_Thank goodness for that_. It had taken weeks of studying and testing for Link to be able to memorize some of the tribes and ethnic groups of the Gerudo peoples, and then recognize their identifying markers on sight when it came to traditional clothing. With his accumulative experiences with the zorans still measuring in the hour, he did not want to labor under the assumption that he was somehow able to pick out who was hostile and who was – if not friendly – not inclined to shoot him on sight.

What the zorans lacked in tactical aptitude, they made up for what Link could only compare to fanaticism. Cover was disregarded for optimum shooting positions and timing, cover only being considered during inevitable reloads. Instead of waiting for the reloads, the Hylian instead simply waited for bullets to sound like they weren't headed in his direction before popping out of cover, firing off a few rounds, then ducking back under and maneuvering to a different position to join Veteran and Driver. It was a fairly successful formula, and Link managed to flank two zorans, swiftly turning their heads into bloody messes before disappearing into the maze of concrete that got him another step closer towards their exit strategy. His two zoran allies didn't seem to reprimand him or attempt in any way to correct him, so Link guessed that Durandara's friend-or-foe identification was working out for the better.

Or, alternatively, the two just didn't care whom the humans were shooting at. Link could never tell with these zorans.

Jessica benefitted from neither sunglasses upon which a HUD could be projected nor AI identification assistance; refraining from shooting in fear of potential friendly fire, her bewildered expression as she watched Link fire back was both obvious and understandable. "Do you know who to fire at?" she asked, looking a little incredulous, if not astounded.

Unheard by the MICO officer, Durandara clearly prioritized Link's survival over the well-being of their allies of convenience as she sarcastically muttered into Link's ear, "Do you think anyone cares?"

Curiously, there didn't seem to be many other groups that looked to be evacuating the area. The zorans the four had run into so far seemed more like guards or zorans in defensive positions getting in the way. Two possibilities occurred to Link even as they disengaged from enemy harassing fire and moved through the next corridor with efficient speed: That they were amongst the first zoran groups to make their way to where they had left their vehicles instead of being bogged down by firefights; and that part of this violence had been premeditated even without Valentine interference, and some zoran tribes had simply been waiting for the shooting to break out before degenerating into a full-on firefight.

Some validation was given to Link's theory when the four finally arrived at the large chamber where they had parked their APC; the underground room was largely empty, save a few zorans here and there that either didn't notice the arrival of the two humans and two zorans, or simply didn't care. In the absence of a crowd, the presence of several other military vehicles – likely commandeered by the zorans to get to this meeting point on time – also became obvious. Most of them were APCs like theirs, but there were also humvees and IFVs, as well as another vehicle than caught Veteran's eye even as Link and Driver quickly made for their original APC.

"Wait," he demanded, reaching out to grab Driver by the shoulder, stopping the younger zoran and then pointing at another vehicle parked not too far away, a Valentine light-armored vehicle that certainly looked faster and lighter than the APC they had been riding on previously. "Take the LAV."

Driver paused for a split-second, apparently to think it over, then nodded grimly, moving over to the vehicle they were planning to hijack. Its rear hatch was open; he seemed to be prepared to step through it, but the sound of shouts from within, combined with Driver instantly sidestepping to the side of the LAV's opening, seemed to indicate that there were zorans of the unfriendly sort inside…a dilemma Driver instantly alleviated by shoving his KS-74 around the corner and randomly spraying bullets on full automatic into the vehicle. Within such confines, accuracy didn't matter, and it didn't take long for the zoran to reload, step into the vehicle, and throw two bullet-riddled bodies out.

Link, in the meantime, had wasted no time in jumping into the old APC anyways for the single purpose of pulling Epona out in preparation to mount it into the LAV. He caught and ignored both a stare from Veteran and a sneer from Driver. In fact, this was preferable; it was better that the zorans did not know of or otherwise underestimated the reconnaissance motorcycle's capabilities. Moving Epona into the LAV, Link could see what Veteran saw this as a better choice for a getaway vehicle. It looked only a little less well-armored than the APC they had ridden in, and while it ran on four sets of wheels instead of treads, it was likely to achieve a top speed of somewhere along the lines of a hundred kilometers per hour. More importantly – at least from the front and bank – the LAV's profile was smaller than the APC, giving enemies chasing them a small target by which to hit.

Driver had already jumped into the driver's canopy by the time Link managed to pull Epona into the LAV; Jessica and Veteran provided covering fire as the vehicle's engines warmed up, and jumped inside the moment they were ready to go, closing the hatch behind them. Epona's weight shifted inside the LAV even as Driver took off immediately, the screeching of the vehicle's wheels audible even within the armored confines; it took Jessica jumping over and steadying the motorcycle for Epona to not tip and crash against the inner walls of the LAV. The acceleration was no joke for an armored vehicle: The LAV was fast and nimble.

But theirs were not the only tires screeching across sewer concrete and pavement. Other sets of wheels vying for friction could be heard echoing in the distance even within the confines of the LAV, a sound which was soon corroborated with the sudden and loud staccato clanking of bullets ricocheting off armor, and – despite being protected by metallic protection encasing their vehicle – Link and Jessica instinctively flinched as high-caliber machine gun bullets bounced off their LAV. It was not difficult to deduce that they now had pursuers…and, if Link had to guess, specifically those of a zoran disposition. Whatever their grievances they had towards Veteran and Driver's alliance with Link and Jessica were apparently strong enough for the enemy to give chase even in the chaos of a Valentine incursion.

"Someone get on the damn guns!" Driver snarled from the front as he made another emergency turn, the sudden bump and shifting of weight telling Link that they were going up a circular ramp. Almost immediately, Jessica was moving up to the interior control suite that manned the primary chain gun of the light armored vehicle, the weapon system's computer screen lighting up with a targeting system. Link made to stand up to climb up to where the coaxial machine gun was perched atop the LAV, but a strong hand kept him in his seat, Veteran already moving past him and climbing up to the turret, his unexpressed intent for Link to stay out of the line of fire obvious.

"Head north," Veteran said loudly to Driver – surprisingly, in Interlingua – over the sounds of battle as he ascended up to the LAV's weapon. "Jehtu's warbands will provide assistance." And, with that, his upper body disappeared as the zoran crewed the machine gun perched atop the LAV.

It deprived Link of a view outside as he realized he was forced to sit with a thumb up his ass, but that was likely irrelevant; for now, his entire world rattled with the sound of unending gunfire.

* * *

Computer screens aligned against the walls and the consoles displayed dozens of video feeds, graphs, readouts, numbers. Keeping track of all of them at once at real-time while commanding a military force taking part in a fast-moving operation required a level of skill refined to the point where it could be described as art.

Between the curtains of blond hair that framed her face, Juno's eyes skirted across the screens with habitual movements that spoke of a master possessing ample familiarity with command. Dim red lights reflected against irises, spoke of a priority command situation; the crimson hue that replaced pristine white brightness cut down on possible reflections on the screen, emphasized the glow of the monitors, and reminded everyone within the vehicle of the urgent strategic situation.

It was here from the nerve center of Valentine operations in the area that Juno quickly surveyed the situation from dozens of readouts. Infantry forces were making progress in the underground sewer system where the zorans were hiding. Resistance was fierce, but superior equipment and positioning allowed for the negation of most enemy advantages. The number of forces in the area wasn't _quite_ sufficient to enforce a complete cordon of the area, but specific routes in and out of the city were locked down; in the event that an escape route could be detected, pursuit forces could instantly be dispatched to run them down. A utility helicopter was on station to provide aerial reconnaissance, permitting an overhead visual of the area of operations to be matched up with a digital map of the region.

Via headsets, Juno's command and control subordinates coordinated the grand strategy of the search-and-destroy operations with methodical grace, maneuvering fireteams and squads swiftly through the underground while reallocating forces to either reinforce the cordon or to cut off zoran stragglers. The major's ears selectively filtered through the radio chatter, picking out the most important bits.

"Dagger Three-Two Actual, Terminal. Be advised, confirmed hostiles to be in possession of AP ordinance, recommend you keep an eye out in close-quarters for…"

"Lion Two-One, Blaze Three-Two reports possible IEDs ahead of your position. Defend your intersection; we're sending a hotel-kilo team your way in…"

"Negative, Lion Four-Four Actual, use of explosive ordinance not cleared at this time. Hunker down, we're rerouting reinforcements…"

Beside Juno, Steven tried hard not to let his awe show too obviously. He, too, was a major alongside the rest of the 1st Special Investigative Unit, but his experiences had strictly been confined to the gathering, organization, and processing of classified information. The kind of command and control Juno was running was something he never would've thought would cross paths with his career, ever. He had undergone related training exercises as a commissioned officer, of course, and it was thanks to that training that he was _barely_ able to keep up, but it was an overwhelming experience that threatened to leave him in the dust even as he struggled to follow. Juno couldn't have been many years older than he was; where did she accumulate this kind of experience?

"Umbra One-Three, be advised, reports of biological threats on levels three and four have been confirmed as false. Begin your sweep of the sector…"

"Longbow Six, Terminal. White Four has surplus AT ordinance enroute to your location. Check fire to your northwest and…"

"Steven."

"Contact with Blaze Two-Two lost, status unknown, last reported to be pinned by enemy fire. Gunslinger Two-Five, rerouting you and a hotel-kilo team to Blaze Two-Two's last known location…"

"…_Steven_."

The familiar female voice snapped Steven out of his cocoon of concentration, and he tried not to look too embarrassed as his happed twitched in the direction of Major Juno out of surprise. She tried not to look too irritated as she pursed her lips, hands folded behind her back imposingly. "Sorry," he muttered.

Juno elected to ignore the apology. "Any ideas on what exit strategies our target has?"

Steven rubbed his chin in thought. "I was transported on-site via light armored vehicle," he recalled, his mind working both his short-term memory and his analytical skills. "I had visual contact with around a dozen more, I believe, but my guess is that there is at least one other 'garage' where the zorans stashed their vehicles. Evidence points to the possibility that the zorans have either been hijacking or salvaging both Hylian and Gerudo ground transport. I didn't see any Gerudo vehicles; they're probably too far away from regional zoran influence."

The blond major nodded. "Any chances they'll escape on foot?"

"Possible, but would the zorans gain any tactical advantage from doing so?"

"You're the one all buddy-buddy with the zorans. I'm asking _you_."

Deciding to chalk that remark up to the stress of command, Steven let it slide as he responded, "Then not that I can think of. Conventional tactics would suggest using vehicles to break the cordon, especially since there have been no signs of reinforcements outside the city. They're encircled, and the only way out is to break through. Light armor would make the most sense."

Before Steven was even finished with his explanation, Juno was already striding across the corridor formed between the consoles of the command center, leaning over one of her subordinates. "All units are to prioritize enemy vehicles as secondary targets," she ordered. "Commandeer them, destroy them, whatever they see fit. Do not permit the enemy any exit strategies. Make sure the cordon is prepared to intercept any vehicles with AT ordinance."

"Yes, ma'am," replied the officer, swiftly relaying the orders down the chain of command. And, for several seconds, that seemed to be the end of things, until the officer turned back around, reported, "Ma'am, several squads have reported in possible retreating vehicles already. We're still trying to get an update on approximate number."

Scowling, Juno configured her headset for a moment so she could speak personally to a specific unit on the field instead of relaying it through her subordinates. "Super Six-One, Terminal. Ground forces are reporting possible victors commandeered by enemy forces attempting to leave the area of operations. Can you see them from up there?"

Super Six-One was their utility helicopter that maintained aerial surveillance over the area. The forces at Astric didn't have much in the way of air support, and all other air assets were being prioritized for frontline defensive action, meaning the only air unit Juno had on hand was the same helicopter that had transported her to the area to begin with. Recently refueled, Super Six-One would likely have another hour, maybe an hour and a half of operational flight time. It wasn't Juno's first choice for air reconnaissance and support – an attack helicopter or helicopter gunship would've been much more preferable – but she conceded it was better than nothing.

A crackle in the headsets was the prelude to a reply. Steven shared the same command frequency, and received Super Six-One's reply alongside Juno. "Terminal, Super Six-One. We have visual of unidentified victors northbound. Moving to get a better angle."

The command vehicle did not have a "main screen", and both majors had to move further down the corridor to a sufficiently large screen that showed a map of the region in conjunction with Super Six-One's video feed. The screen was characteristically green for footage being captured by a camera on nightvision mode, the resolution low and the quality fuzzy. It took somewhere over two minutes, in fact, for Super Six-One to finally achieve an angle where its onboard camera could spot the targets in question, and Juno and Steven likely would've missed them entirely had high-caliber gunfire not lit up the abandoned streets below with great flashes of light made prominent through a light-sensitive device.

"There," Steven pointed, his finger trailing a procession of armored vehicles speeding across the screen. Or perhaps "procession" was not the best term for it, not when the guns of the vehicles – most of the lightly-armored, ranging from APCs to LAVs to IFVs to humvees – were blazing at each other in dueling bursts while their drivers haphazardly maneuvered past wrecked vehicles and weaved through angry hot lines of tracers on the streets. Through the green hue of the screen, the tracers were barely visible, especially with each burst at the muzzles of each gun momentarily turning the vicinity into blind white flashes. The computer synchronized with the camera was barely able to adjust for brightness and contrast while keeping the imagery viewable through the darkness.

"That's far more than I thought," Juno grimaced, counting a number of vehicles that threatened to hit the low twenties.

"There were at least three hundred zorans at council, likely much more," explained Steven, focusing on the screen, squinting his eyes in an attempt to make out details. "It would've been naïve to assume they did not acquire ground transport to congregate here."

Juno grunted, but was far more concerned by the unspoken insinuations. Valentine High Command had accepted a degree of lapses in security when it came to the offensive strategy; the prioritization of military presence across the main line of resistance was far more important than the occupation of conquered territories. Their presence behind the MLR would've simply been limited to supply depots, logistics waypoints, and convoys ferrying supplies to the front, and wounded and captured civilians to the rear. There was the understanding that only token patrols would be necessary to contain civilians and tiny elements of enemy resistance, with the priority being to prevent attacks that would create a break in the chain of logistics from the Valentine homeland. But this supposedly sound strategy was now being evaluated in Juno's mind as she considered the staggering fact: More than three hundred zorans were able to maneuver through Valentine-occupied territory into an abandoned city more than two hundred kilometers from the northern shores dividing Hyrule from the Aurora Ocean, many of them having done so with lightly armored military vehicles.

Of course, no one, apparently not even Major Steven, had expected the zorans to be able to provide – never mind actually _trying_ to provide – the Hylians and the Gerudo with any form of actual assistance.

But the focus now had to be on the altercation between zoran-commandeered military vehicles, which was getting dangerously close to northern cordon. "Are you sure that's them?" Juno asked Steven, absentmindedly registering one of her officers alerting Mongoose Five to incoming enemy armor, and more-than-just-absentmindedly realizing with severe annoyance that – by chance or otherwise – Mongoose Five had not been supplied with enough anti-armor weapons.

Steven looked thoughtful as he cradled his chin in between cupped fingers, but seemed confident of his answer. "Intertribal rivalries have come to a head. A good number of the zorans do not support native elements trying to provide assistance to the Hylian-Gerudo alliance. In their shoes, if I chose to _not_ flee and conserve my strength, I'd be pursuing the Hylian, devastate the plans of rival tribes."

A nod was sufficient to pass on acknowledgement of that statement from major to major as Juno's eyes turned towards the wall of screens instead, watched as one of the rear vehicles – a humvee that apparently caught too many rounds of high-caliber bullets – suddenly veered off the road and crashed into a lamppost, where it remained utterly still. Idly, the female Valentine military intelligence major wondered if it was supposed to be one of "theirs", if tentatively allied zorans could be considered "theirs" to begin with. "Inform cordon forces to peel off as many pursuit vehicles as they can to follow those vehicles," she said to one of her officers, apparently deciding for a fact that Mongoose Five was unlikely to be able to prevent the host of armored vehicles from breaking through their lines. "Our primary target is in one of the vehicles; it is _imperative_ that the vehicle is taken down. Have nearby units reroute on an intercept course."

"But check fire," Steven added almost immediately afterwards. "Some of them are friendlies not carrying FOF tags. We don't want to cause any unnecessary friction with our allies."

The officer gave a quick, inquisitive look at Juno, as if to ensure this was in line with her wishes; the major merely gave a nod, and the subordinate began to relay information down the line. Her gaze returning to the screens, Juno watched the next half-minute unfold nearly exactly as she had expected it to: Four fireteams of Valentine infantry and four humvees fired down the street when the enemy vehicles came within adequate firing range for them to not have to worry too much about "friendly fire", but the vehicles by and large shot past them, the Valentine troops scattering from behind their firing positions on the street as vehicle after vehicle blew through their blockade in virtually every part of the street, knocking their own vehicles around. Gunfire blazed everywhere, at the roadblock, at each other, at nowhere in particular. Nearby vehicles were converging on their position, but they weren't fast enough to make the intercept.

Juno scowled again, wishing not _every_ air support unit and UAV had been rerouted for the frontlines.

"Terminal, this is Mongoose Five. Ordinance had no effect, I say again, no effect on targets. Allied victors are now in pursuit."

"Copy, Mongoose Five," replied command and control, eyes peeled on the screen as Super Six-One caught sight of the fireteams piling into the surviving humvees and giving chase as they were joined by allied APCs, IFVs, and LAVs from neighboring streets. "Do _not_ lose the targets. Stay on them."

The majors kept their eyes alternating between the strategic map and the video feed from Super Six-One, trying to discern more details beyond the fact that this was fast turning into a chase with anywhere from twenty to thirty vehicles, all of them running northbound as guns blazed at each other. Juno barely spotted a plume of smoke before a white contrail lanced in a hook across the video screen, missing a Valentine LAV and detonating behind their positions; someone amongst the zorans apparently had a TOW missile launcher on their IFV.

This was going to get messy if the battle was allowed to drag out. The faster they could identify which vehicle is receiving the most protection – and therefore which vehicle carried the primary target – the better.

Noting that there still wasn't any target acquisition or FOF identification on the vehicles appearing on the screen, Juno demanded, "Why are the vehicles not being tagged?"

"Visual recognition is still trying to catch up, ma'am," explained a lieutenant on the far end of the vehicle. Another explosion, combined with a brilliant flash of light; a TOW missile had found its target, and detonated a Valentine pursuit vehicle into pieces of scrap metal and plumes of ignited gasoline. They were leaving the city, moving into the cold hills that led north across cracked, uneven terrain. It would be difficult for the light vehicles to keep up, as their top speed would be hampered by less-stable centers of mass. "Resolution's low, computer's having a hard time trying to identify them, especially when they're blinking in and out."

The capacity for a computer to visually recognize and track certain entities from a video feed was deemed revolutionary digital technology when it was first introduced, but there were limits to its capabilities. Computers had not advanced to a point where it could logically actually recognize shapes for what they were; they were simply matching pieces of an imagery to models and their corresponding patterns as listed in databases. Specific conditions were needed before individual targets could be recognized and tracked throughout a video feed, allowing for the software to keep track of who was moving where even through the chaos of twenty-something vehicles in a messy chase. All of this, however, was useless if a clear picture was not given in the first place, and the software could barely recognize the spots on the screen that human eyes could tell were vehicles by making the logical connect computers were still incapable of.

There was only one good solution to that problem for the time being. "Super Six-One," Juno spoke into her headset, deeming this important enough for her to speak immediately instead of having her subordinates act as a proxy, "descend altitude but hold fire. We need a clearer picture, but don't draw enemy fire onto yourself."

"Super Six-One copies all." It took a moment, but the helicopter began to evidently descend while the camera adjusted for angle and distance, ensuring that the camera had a good picture of the entire chase – or close to it – in the frame the entire time. The first set of tracking icons indicating each vehicle began to appear on the screen, although they were strictly for allied armor; the computer was pairing the pursuing forces with the FOF tags on the vehicles. It did seem like trying to get their command suite to track enemy vehicles would still take a while.

Out of the confines of the city, the vehicles spread out a bit more, fought for more maneuvering room, navigating hills and trees and woodlands and natural obstacles, all while shooting at each other. The tracers being fired from guns from every which direction to every which direction divided the screen like a spiderweb as vehicles maneuvered left and right, pulling ahead or decreasing speed, barreling into a mess that made it difficult for Juno to make head from tails. All she knew for certain was that bullets and rockets were being exchanged from high-speed vehicles, one of which suddenly exploded – the screen hadn't tagged it as a friendly, so it was one of the APCs being commandeered by the zorans, either the "good" ones or the "bad" ones – the blast successful in throwing a humvee that had the misfortune of being too close onto its side.

The situation was apparently too hot for two of the untagged vehicles, which peeled off and turned right, moving outside the sphere of engagement. Juno had half a mind to detach three of their own vehicles in pursuit, but Steven – realizing Juno's intent or not – remarked aloud, "The other zoran vehicles aren't following. Those two were pursuers bugging out, not our target. We gain nothing but lose much by going after them. Let them go."

Juno had half a mind to argue, but decided against it. Steven was inexperienced, not an idiot. And while her usual policy was to leave no loose end, no stone left unturned, she reluctantly accepted the fact that she was short on assets currently chase-capable, meaning she had to make do with what she had; diverting three vehicles in pursuit of targets that – according to Steven – were not likely to have the Hylian infiltrator amongst its passengers was not something she could afford. And while the passengers in question were mere _zorans_…well, there would be a time where they'd be dealt with and brought upon a knee; until then, there was use in playing nice.

That didn't change the fact that the entire operation was taking too long, though, and Juno wasn't keen on a strategy that basically involved run-and-gun on a glorified scale. "We're just playing catch-up here," she muttered. "We need to keep one step ahead." A sidelong glance directed her question at Steven: "If you're the one trying to get the infiltrator out of here, what would you do?"

Juno was not certain if Steven's habitual contemplation before responding to a question indicated at an overly cautious nature or an insufficiently sharp mind. "I'd lose Valentine forces by jumping into the Evros," the latter responded after some thought. "We can't follow them in there. But I wouldn't do that until I lose my zoran pursuers first, because _they_ can follow underwater. And I'd be slowed down by the non-zorans there, having to drag along two humans underwater who can't breathe and have to be protected."

Any reply that was to come was interrupted with flashes on a nearby monitor caught their attention, both majors shifting their glances to Super Six-One's video feed. The brilliant white seemed to be overwhelming the nightvision even more, the computer trying to adjust the brightness and contrast to actually make the entire thing viewable. It didn't take long for either intelligence officers to spot clues in between the sporadic flashes and realize why the feed was suddenly becoming overwhelmed with light: The tracers and bullets were being fired in the direction of the _helicopter_.

"Super Six-One is hit," the helicopter pilot reported on the channel, his voice calm despite the fact that his microphone was also picking up the very loud sounds of bullets striking against the aircraft, the sounds reminiscent of shaking rocks in a metal can. "Repeat, Six-One is taking enemy fire."

"Incoming TOW!" cried someone else, probably the co-pilot. Juno and Steven instantly tensed as they watched a plume expand from the ground, followed by an arc of smoke drawing across the screen with increasing alacrity, indicating the guided missile lancing in the direction of the camera. With a jerk, the video feed turned away, momentarily showing nothing by the night sky, indicating that Super Six-One was making emergency maneuvers, turning away, trying to dodge the missile…

The loud static caused by an explosion suddenly rattled against the majors' eardrums, their line with Super Six-One temporarily consumed by the sound of a TOW missile detonating somewhere uncomfortably close to the helicopter. The screen before them dissolved into static for several seconds, and for a moment that seemed to drop something cold deep into the stomachs of everyone present, it seemed like all contact with Super Six-One had been severed…until the video feed came back on. Unfortunately, what was seen and the words that came through the channel immediately afterwards were not worthy of encouragement.

"Six-One is going down," the pilot announced resignedly, his voice still tight and controlled despite the aircraft's rapidly approaching appointment with the ground. "Repeat, Super Six-One going down."

Steven watched with muted horror as the camera feed of Super Six-One began to spin, the forest beneath the helicopter twirling on screen, indicating the helicopter's loss of control. Juno, by contrast, paid the now-useless video no such attention, focusing instead on other maps and readouts instead of Super Six-One's futile attempts to soften their landing. A grimace crossed her otherwise fine features; experience told her she should not expect any survivors. The utility helicopter was a lost asset already, and they had more important objectives than recovery. And of greater concern was that they no longer had an overhead view of the battle; all Juno could rely on were readouts from allied units, mentally matching them with where on the map the fight was supposed to be. Almost a dozen other video feeds from vehicle-mounted cameras were on-screen, but they hardly provided the big picture as much as they just depicted the chaos of the fight up close, hardly anything the commander of this operation needed.

In the corner of her vision, one of the screens dissolved completely into static and was swiftly replaced with another graph. From another part of the command center, a command and control officer tensely announced, "Super Six-One is down."

"They're most likely dead." Juno's voice was cool and masterfully controlled. "Search and rescue is not a priority; focus all available manpower on the primary target. Hotel-kilos should still be clearing the sewers."

Steven looked mildly uncomfortable with the idea of depriving possible survivors of a speedy rescue effort, and it showed in the way he grimaced, shifted his weight. But he didn't object to Juno's orders, something she appreciated. Young he may be, but the male major was apparently familiar with the concept of cutting losses.

Good news, fortunately, came shortly afterwards. "Major, I've got a gunship RTB making a pass through our AO, callsign Archer Two-Four. They'll be on station in about three mikes."

Juno felt a smirk tug at the corner of her lips. Fixed-wing gunships were large, four-engine planes equipped with two twenty millimeter autocannons, one forty millimeter cannon, and a 105 millimeter howitzer, designed for the purpose of providing electronic and fire support, raining down unparalleled death from five kilometers above ground. If all failed, it was good to know that the option to bathe the infiltrator in fire was available to her, if only for a limited amount of time. The aircraft was returning to base and was only passing through the area of operations, meaning Juno would have to make judicious use of its limited time.

That pleasure, however, turned swiftly into confusion as her brow furrowed, looking at newly-identified entities on the battlefield – confirmed electronically, not visually – on the operational map. They hadn't been there before, a fact that Juno registered by noticing there seemed to be more tagged units on the map than there was before. "I'm looking at extra contacts on my screen," she announced her eyes darting for the screens displaying mediocre-quality camera feeds from ground vehicles in an attempt to try to identify the newcomers visually. "What's happening?"

Her team did not have an immediate answer, attempting to study the data before deliberating a conclusion. "They're not part of the task force, but…" a lieutenant murmured, trying to overview communications, encrypted orders, movement patterns, FOF codes, streamed video from ground vehicles, "…they're scout motorcycles, broadcasting legitimate Valentine tags, reporting under…"

"…Special forces," Juno finished for the officer, barely managing to utter the words out from teeth covertly grinding against each other, a slight frown creasing across her brow. _Alexandria, you little bitch_…

* * *

Favors were the most valued currency in the international community of military operators trained in black operations and asymmetrical warfare.

Working in a trade where deniability was a norm and redacted information on their career service vitae was a badge of office, they trusted the "institution" about as far as they could throw them. It was understood that the strategy was a necessity, the capability of the government to disavow captured or deceased operators vital to their endgame. It didn't change the fact, however, that such men and women were well aware of just how quickly politicians and pen-pushers were willing to throw them to the wolves.

Therefore, with a lifestyle that constantly expected everything to fall apart and for "shit to hit the fan", the proud wolves of the military learned to trust the power of favors instead. Few of the deadliest men and women in the world cared to admit that they were once saved by someone else; all wanted the slate wiped clean as soon as possible. This, combined with a prevalent distaste for the overly strict and unnecessarily rigid protocols of the military that could generously be described as utter paranoia, ensured that unconventional warfare outfits across the continent could – if nothing else – trust each other for being competent, reliable, and _relatively_ sane. Modern military commands begrudgingly learned to tolerate this; although the amount of intelligence leaks coming from such outfits were generally disproportionate to the number pertaining to their manpower, their under-the-table ties often came very much in handy when populist politicians managed to blow diplomacy out of the water, when all official channels of communications stonewalled.

So when Alexandria dropped the bait into the water by offering all Valentine special forces units in the area a chance to clean the slate with her – or, alternatively, to be owed a favor by the ex-special-forces-officer-turned-intelligence-major – Captain Samson bit immediately.

And he had not arrived unprepared.

Accompanied by a trio of special forces hunter-killers, Alexandria and her team managed to make the intercept on standard special forces scout motorcycles, and helped in giving chase. Although control of such a light vehicle across uneven terrain was a problem, the woodlands to the side and the hills scattered throughout provided plenty of cover and pockets they could disappear into, protecting the riders from harm. And if the army of trees in the forest were insufficient cover from the machine gun fire that blazed and crisscrossed across the woodlands, the vehicles of their allies made for excellent shields.

With expert control mastered from untold hours of experience at the handles of a reconnaissance motorcycle, Alexandria deftly wove between the kaleidoscope of trees, rocks, vehicles, gunfire, weaving left and right to throw off all attempts to track her while dodging the natural obstacles that would've put a disastrous halt to her pursuit, not needing to look back to know that the other three special forces operators were replicating the maneuvers on their own separate arcs. The major did not fire her fore-mounted machine guns, nor did her motorcycle-riding compatriots; at the rate they were disappearing and reappearing left and right amongst the trees, trying to line up a shot with their targets was near impossible, and the 7.62 millimeter rounds their machine guns spewed – even at nine hundred rounds a minute – was unlikely to even leave too many dents in even the LAVs. The humvees, maybe, but they weren't priority targets, and the muzzle flashes from their motorcycles would just make them more obvious targets. It was more practical to leave the military assets that could soak up the damage – the Valentine armored vehicles also in pursuit – to attract fire while special forces moved in for the kill.

It wasn't sociopathic apathy towards getting others killed; it was simply a pragmatic understanding of knowing what roles can be accomplished by what capabilities of what units.

The situation was messy enough as is, with radio transmissions indicating the firefight dynamics of this pursuit was some kind of compromise between an alliance of convenience and a battle royal. The safe thing, of course, was to blow up every vehicle in the engagement to tie off all loose ends. It was, in Alexandria's opinion, also the _stupid_ thing to do, so she relied on glimpses of the battlefield, the study of firefight dynamics, watching in which directions the bullets were flying. When each special forces operator was convinced that a vehicle carrying zorans was definitely an enemy – generally identified by watching the gunner of the vehicle fire consistently on other vehicles crewed by Valentine infantry – the vehicle was shot with a very different sort of ordinance: Paintballs. It was two minutes since they entered the chase, and already six zoran vehicles were confirmed hostile, their rear sporting a splash of paint colored a brilliant orange.

Deftly navigating the environment and passing through moving vehicles, the four motorcycles dodged incoming fire while methodically moving in between friendly armor, ever vigilant of incoming ordinance and potential cover. The leapfrog maneuvers helped the operators evade enemy fire, eluding them from the enemy's sights, while other motorcycles blindsided them. The vehicles tagged with an orange splash of paint were quickly identified, the special forces operators pulling up to enemy armor before they even realized it. Adhesive-coated plastic explosives materialized into the gloved hands of these deadly warriors before kilograms of powerful explosives were attached to the side of the enemy vehicles, the triggering mechanisms activated, the motorcycles peeling away back to the safety of the foliage and allied armor.

And to Alexandria's satisfaction, as the timers swiftly and inexorably counted down to zero, the explosions detonated in synchronized clouds of brilliant fire and dust, the fuel in the vehicles igniting, combusting, and illuminating the landscape with balls of fire that the Valentine convoy swiftly navigated around amidst raining bits of charred steel; score one for the inheritors of Duchess Sieglinde.

* * *

"Four possible enemy victors destroyed by explosives."

The report came as Juno watched the video feeds impassively, her reflexes picking up on the explosions that seemed to appear in front of several of the pursuing Valentine vehicles before they navigated around them in an instant. Although not thrilled by the development, the major conceded Alexandria was – as usual – effective in procuring results.

Unfortunately, even special forces couldn't trump the limits of reality, and the fact that the zorans were getting inexorably closer to their escape route loomed above their heads. As if to punctuate this fact, a female controller tersely announced, "Vehicles four kilometers from Evros River."

Progress was impossibly good, but still not enough. Even with the amount of vehicles peeling away from the chase, Steven writing them off the list of suspects one at a time by their tactical behavior, there were still too many vehicles and too little time to do anything about it. Even if Steven had not arrived and Juno retained the right to bomb everything to kingdom come just to make sure, it still didn't skirt around the fact that they didn't have enough firepower to destroy so many fleeing vehicles across this kind of terrain.

"Archer Two-Four now in AO," came the announcement from one of the coordinators without warning. "Patching through main line."

_Or maybe we do_, Juno amended herself, the corner of her lips twitching upwards to resemble the ghost of a smirk.

"Archer Two-Four on station." The voice of the gunship controller flying somewhere in the darkened skies filtered cleanly through Juno and Steven's headsets. "We're at bingo fuel and have all of five mikes in your airspace. Make them count."

Juno made a slicing motion with her hand to one of the officers, indicating a desire to speak to the gunship crew directly, speaking into her headset with all the confidence of command, "Archer Two-Four, Terminal. Do you have a visual on convoy of fifteen-plus vehicles, headed northbound along the river?"

"Affirmative, Terminal, fifteen-plus victors headed north along the river. Do we have clearance to engage those targets?"

"Do not fire directly on the victors. Engage in suppressing fire on the lead vehicles of the convoy. Limit their field of movement and slow them down, but do not fire directly on the vehicles." And, with any luck, that'd slow them down, impede their progress, give the Valentine pursuers time to catch up.

"Copy, Terminal. Switching to the twenty millimeter." The twenty-millimeter chain gun was an extremely rapid-firing, six-barrel weapon that served one particular purpose: To deliver six thousand battery-sized bullets from the sky within a minute. That kind of firepower could destroy a battle tank within seconds; to a handful of APCs, IFVs, and humvees on the ground, it would likely seem all the more terrifying.

Except Steven didn't seem to think it was enough. "We're going to have to do better than that," he stated plainly.

Juno actually raised an eyebrow at the thought that a hail of twenty millimeter rounds from the sky would be an insufficient distraction. "Excuse me?"

"The zorans are fanatical towards whatever cause they choose to devote themselves to," explained the male major grimly. "Harassing fire won't cut it. Advise Archer Two-Four to switch to the forty millimeter, give them a little more to think about than just autocannon fire."

Juno hesitated; the forty millimeter was a massive jump up from the twenty, akin to throwing two flashlight-sized blocks of steel at the ground every second at speeds sufficient to cause controlled but potent explosions that would tear anything near it apart. This was not precisely the kind of munitions she intended to use as what basically amounted to a bluff. But, again, Juno decided she would trust Steven on this matter, and spoke into her microphone once more, "Archer Two-Four, Terminal. Advise switching to forty millimeter cannon, give them some bangs to worry about."

The reply took a split-second longer than usual to arrive at command and control. "Terminal, Archer Two-Four. Confirm: You are requesting danger close suppression fire with explosive ordinance. We cannot guarantee we will not hit the convoy."

Juno shot Steven an inquisitive look; he was the one more familiar with the zorans, and the one who implored Valentine forces not to shoot indiscriminately in fear of upsetting the wrong factions. When he chose not to respond, however, Juno confirmed, "Confirm danger close suppression fire. Do what you can from the air."

"Archer Two-Four copies all. Engaging enemy with the forty."

It took almost half a minute for the gunship to start firing away at the convoy, but once it started, the show as viewed from the command center was brilliant; Juno and Steven silently watched as the video feed from the gunship's targeting camera displayed the show of fireworks, explosions suddenly rattling the ground around the vehicles, sending them scattering in uncoordinated, ungainly attempts to somehow weave or stagger through the shots. It was as if the heavens themselves accidentally spilled a large crate of grenades over the vehicles, the zoran drivers desperately swinging left and right in a silly attempt to try to shake off targeting.

"Two more peeling away," came the update, indicating that the intimidation effects were, to some extent, working.

"The rest aren't following." Steven's voice was hard and solid with concentration as his eyes remained riveted on the screen. "Let them go."

"Get our own off their tails and back with the chase," muttered Juno absentmindedly to the relevant subordinate.

Slowly, Steven allowed a finger to rise up to the screen, taking a moment as if to mentally make sure, before murmuring, "I'm narrowing primary target vehicle down to…" again, a moment of thought, some mental double-checking, and then he pointed at two vehicles on the screen, illuminated as white boxes by the gunship camera's thermal imaging systems, "…these two LAVs."

Juno couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of skepticism and amazement at the fact that Steven somehow seemed confident at being able to identify, track, and narrow down two LAVs despite the image recognition software itself having a hard time trying to make any sense out of the video feed. "Are you sure?" she asked, but her attention was diverted before the other major could provide an answer, the peripheral of her vision catching something on a key monitor…or, more specifically, what _wasn't_ on the monitor. "They've stopped shooting at each other."

Gone was the angry crisscross of tracer fire weaving to and fro; although the escapees were still firing away at their pursuers, there was no coherent answer, not when Valentine ground units were discouraged from firing in fear of what could technically classify as friendly fire, if Steven's zoran "allies" could actually be counter as allies. Now, however, the shooting seemed to be minimal amongst a messy procession of what seemed to amount to only less than ten vehicles.

Steven picked up on the insinuation immediately and grimaced, looking tense and anxious. "That's bad. It means they've shook off the pursuers from the other tribes."

"You mean our own assets are the only ones pursuing them now," hissed Juno.

And then the vehicles suddenly disappeared.

It happened suddenly. The white blocks that highlighted each of the vehicle's heat signatures had been weaving across the screen throughout the chase, traveling against the fuzzy gray background that revealed the relatively "cold" surroundings that was hills and woodlands. Occasionally, the white outlines of the vehicles would "blink" as they passed under trees and other natural landscape features, but would otherwise reappearing once again. This time, however, they suddenly winked out of existence from the video feed and refused to return.

Juno's heart practically skipped a beat as she stared, her eyes madly traveling from one screen to another in an attempt to search for _something_ that would indicate the ten-or-so vehicles didn't suddenly disappear into thin air. "Archer Two-Four," she demanded, "we've lost visual from here. What happened?"

"Targets have entered a high-density woodland area. Foliage is interfering with visual contact."

"High-density woodland area" was an understatement. Consulting the digital map and changing it to a topographical setting, Juno scowled as she realized precisely what was north: Kilometers and kilometers of dense forestry that extended along the river. Even with thermal imaging, Archer Two-Four would likely not so much as spot the zorans jump into the Evros River, given how close the trees edges to the banks. And ground forces seemed no closer to ending the pursuit than they were a minute ago.

"Keep up the pressure," Juno hissed, gesturing for her staff to relay the same message to Valentine soldiers on the ground as well, an order that was promptly obeyed. "You must stop them from getting to the Evros at _any_ cost. Stay on top of them and maintain fire."

And as if the mounting pressure that threatened to boil over wasn't enough, in came an unwelcome update. "Ma'am, zorans are one kilometer away from the Evros. If we've got no other zorans pursuing them, they're home free the moment they dive."

Fighting down a grimace and resorting instead to quietly grinding her teeth without even realizing it, Juno threw a sidelong glance, looked at Steven in hopes the male major – inexperienced as he was – might have _something _for her, but the desperate way his eyes were glued to the monitors indicated he was at wit's end as well. _And the target is _right bloody there, Juno's inner thoughts howled in rage, contained by her near-perfect control over her physical appearances, fixating a glare on the screens as she slowly but resolutely keyed her headset's microphone to transmit her orders, having come to a monumental decision.

"Archer Two-Four, targets must not be allowed to reach the Evros River. You are to drop all possible ordinance on all suspected enemy positions. That includes the 105 millimeter. Level the entire area."

Steven was so tensely focused on the regional map in front of him, so focused on trying to think of ways he could prevent a zoran-Hylian escape, that he did not completely register the full import of Juno's words yet, even when the gunship operator responded, "Uh, we don't have a clear line of sight through the foliage, and are unable to distinguish friendlies from targets. Friendlies may be caught in blast radius."

The hesitation on Juno's part this time was shorter than her first, and she ruthless squelched her misgivings even as she ignored Steven slowly turning in disbelief towards Juno, beginning to work out in his head _precisely_ what the major was trying to say to Archer Two-Four, but still being held back by disbelief from arriving at the obvious conclusion. "Negative, there are _no_ friendlies in the target area." She moved over to a computer, brushed one of her subordinates' hands aside, began keying in commands for a data transfer to the gunship. "Intel reports hostiles having commandeered our transports and engaged in inter-tribal battle. They have not disengaged transponders; we are giving you tracking data now. Pursuing vehicles are not friendlies. Repeat, _no_ friendlies in the target area. Stay on them and fire everything you've got. The enemy must absolutely _not_ reach the Evros. Destroy everything."

"Archer Two-Four copies all. Firing all guns."

Exhaling deeply, Juno calmly turned to Steven with a damningly level visage, a stark contrast to his gaping expression of disbelief and horror, demanding answers. Juno gave him only one: "Their service will be honored."

Another moment of silence, lack of movement, hesitation. Then, suddenly, a blur of rapid motion, Steven backpedaling, his hand coming up to his headset to trigger the microphone; Juno stepping forward, a fist raised to deliver to his face in hopes of disorientating him and dislodging the headset; officers left and right, standing up in alarm at the sudden movement, the bursting of accumulated stress and anxiety.

"No! _No_!" Steven was screaming even as the Valentine officers tried to break up the scuffle, tried to hold back Juno and Steven, pulling them apart from each other, but this had the inadvertent effect of keeping the latter's hands from the headset, preventing him from activating his microphone, even as he futilely tried to will his message to Archer Two-Four. "Abort fire mission! Friendly forces in vicinity; do not fire! _Do not fire_!"

But he was too late. The camera on the gunship shook once, the shell delivered, and even as Steven watched, slack with horror, he realized that he couldn't pull massive slugs of metal back. The seconds it required for the shell to travel the kilometers necessary to strike the ground passed as several eternities, the Valentine officers watching the tranquil image of the Hylian forests below that hid a fierce firefight amongst light armored vehicles under its foliage…

…Then, a massive plume of destruction. An explosion that looked like it could utterly decimate a city square sent a pillar of fire and dust into the sky, courtesy of a 105 millimeter round launched at supersonic speeds. The toppling of the majestic trees was barely visible even as the other guns fired in tandem: The rapid bursts and explosions from the forty millimeter cannon, the spraying of twenty millimeter rounds across the area of operations at a hundred rounds per second. Relentlessly, the gunship looked as if it was unloading every single piece of ordinance from its weapons as it literally bathed the forest with fire, explosive rounds creating a miniature hell in the forest.

Again and again, even as Steven's blank eyes widened to the size of soup plates, each 108 millimeter round struck the ground with great finality, each shot guaranteeing that nothing would survive down there, the gaps between those gigantic explosions filled with forty and twenty millimeter shots that rained upon them with a ferocity no less powerful than even the most fierce of rainshowers.

By the time it was done, the digital maps were completely blank, none of the allied vehicles providing anymore transponder signals. Fires burned in the forest below, whitening much of the gunship's camera feed. But the work was finished, complete, the damage done. "Terminal, Archer Two-Four. We don't see any more movement down there."

Absentmindedly watching Steven sink into a nearby chair, Juno merely commanded, "Fire another salvo into the target area. Nothing survives down there." _The sacrifice has been made_, she told herself silently, definitively, _so I may as well make sure. My hands are stained with blood; I see no reason to stay them now_.

* * *

The orange glow illuminated a soft sphere of light against the night sky, a phenomenon that would turn into a dark pillar of smoke rising into the pale blue dawn that was beginning to grace this part of Hyrule. A small patch of the forest burned from the smoldering ashes of the impact area that was the strip of land where the Valentine gunship had laid down a great amount of explosive ordinance, tearing through trees and blasting through the convoy of pursuing vehicles, transforming them into burning wreck, fuel for the black pillar.

That he was allowed to watch the spectacle – even from three kilometers away, some minutes after the fact – was probably as good a sign to any for Link that they were, for the most part, safe.

Valentine commanders in the area had not been incorrect about the vehicles that peeled away from the choice. Every APC, IFV, and LAV they chose not to pursue were indeed vehicles that belonged to rival zoran tribes, vehicles that did not carry Link, Jessica, Veteran, or Driver. Veteran had been correct in his conclusion that the Valentine military intelligence major would be able to slowly identify which vehicles were safe to ignore, if not which vehicles must be pursued at all costs.

Which was precisely why their LAV had never been part of that chase to begin with. Veteran and Driver's tribesmen had sacrificed themselves to act as a decoy, to pretend one of their vehicles indeed carried the Hylian infiltrator. In reality, Link's LAV had not left the sewers until two minutes after the military chase had broken through the Valentine cordon, giving Driver the opportunity to quietly guide their LAV out of the city, unnoticed.

It was a deceptive, ruthless strategy. And the zorans stuck to it nonetheless.

"The gunship is leaving the area," Veteran observed, standing within the other of the LAV's two hatches beside Link, his gaze fixed skyward as his sharp eyes spotted the fixed wing aircraft as a tiny black speck against the barely-lit skies. Given that this was possibly the only remaining Valentine air asset within the enemy's arsenal that could be called upon on short notice, it meant their exfiltration was very likely to be unnoticed if they left now, if they didn't dally for Valentine patrols to find them. Ducking back into the LAV, Link could barely hear Veteran tell the younger zoran at the driver's seat of the LAV, "Drive north. Avoid the rivers." With a rumble, the LAV's engines started once more, and the vehicle continued their journey towards Hyrule's northern coastline.

From within, Jessica gave Link an inquisitive look. Catching it, Link merely shook his head. Jessica, in turn, merely remained silent and averted her gaze, lost in thought. With little else to do, the Joint Intelligence agent withdrew back into the confines of the LAV, closing the top hatch above him as he did so.

So many zorans dead, many more to die as Valentine hunt-and-kill teams empty the city sewers of threats. All for one Hylian infiltrator. The Hylian could barely understand it.

Link wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but what was it about him that the zorans were ready to risk – and lose – so much for?

* * *

The streets were emptied of other military units by the time Steven stepped out of the mobile command vehicle with strange calm. Dawn was beginning in earnest now, the dark skies seen from the streets between the edges of ruined high-rises lighting up with a pale hue that spoke of the sun's ascent. With that same damning calmness, the major pulled his gloves into his hands, fitting them around his fingers even as he navigated the short flight of stairs that linked the entrance of the vehicle to the street outside.

The streets were empty, as they well should be. All the soldiers available were either continuing with hunt-and-kill operations beneath the streets, or detached in an attempt to catch their Hylian.

_Were detached_, Steven told himself quietly with great bitterness as he began to walk away from the mobile command center in search for an aircraft that would bring him home.

"You know it had to be done."

Juno had allowed Steven to get a slight head's start instead of cornering him within the command vehicle. Part of it might have been to not cause even more of a scene in front of their subordinates, part of it might have been the hope that the some fresh air would do some good for the young major. Still, that didn't impede her from trying to stop Steven as she stood at the top of the steps, right at the entrance of the vehicle, her arms crossed, her arms crossed, her silhouette framed against the lit interior of the command vehicle.

Steven, however, was not in a particularly agreeable mood. "So you believe," he said with a surprising lack of anything remotely approaching bitterness.

That by itself was a dangerous sign, the symptoms of a man who had already settled on an unchangeable decision. Juno had to make sure it was the right one. "I chose to prioritize our objective over lesser concerns."

The younger intelligence officer favored Juno with a half-turn, just enough for him to settle a single eye on Juno. She didn't like the look. "And just what do you think these 'lesser concerns' are?" he questioned.

"Jormungand." The next footfall descended on a metallic step with each of her priorities named, her boots making the distinctive sound of rubber and leather against thin planks of metal. "The war effort. The defensive lines, faltering because our offensive strategy against _both_ Hyrule and Gerudo never would've worked if we didn't have our weapons. Anything and everything that can be sacrificed for the aforementioned is a 'lesser concern' to me."

The single eye narrowed dangerously. "And friendly fire is worth that price?"

"You yourself were willing to risk friendly fire when advising that Archer Two-Four use the forty millimeter, danger close."

"And I didn't decide to drop a one-oh-five howitzer rounds directly on a friendly position," Steven came close to seething before suddenly regaining his calm and repeating, "Was that worth the price?"

The older major kept her composure level, despite alarmed at where this conversation was going. Dozens of "what if" scenarios swarmed her mind, chastising Juno for not having done this or that at certain points since Steven entered her command center. With a great deal of mental discipline, she silenced her runaway mind. "The armed forces are a results-orientated institution," she tried to force coldness and finality into her voice, as if this was not a subject worth further discussion. "So long as we complete our objectives, we have no other concerns."

Apparently, Steven also agreed that this was no longer a subject worth further discussion…but not in the way Juno had hoped for. "A pleasant thought," he murmured, already beginning to turn back where he had been headed and walking away. "You keep believing in that, then."

Somewhere deep inside, Juno felt abstractly proud that she managed to sound calm despite her elevating sense of alarm upon seeing Steven's back turned once more as he continued to walk away. "Where are you going?" There was a sense that this was a premonition to something potentially horrible.

"I'm returning to Velvet," came the indifferent answer. "You got your Hylian, so it's not like you need me anymore."

"I haven't gotten anyone until I've gotten a body."

"I'll be sure to reflect your prudence in my report."

Juno grimaced; this situation was developing in a direction that Juno – even through the subtleties of their barbed conversation – recognized as downhill, fast. "Steven," she spoke, adding weight to her words, trying futilely to make the other major stop in his tracks without actually demanding that he stop. "So long as we can deliver the results, the National Defense Committee doesn't need to know about the details."

The reply was no more encouraging than the previous ones. "I'm sure."

Almost as an afterthought, Juno suddenly realized that she was now walking after Steven instead of standing where she had been at the foot of the stairs of the mobile command center. "Are you sure I can't convince you to stay?" she insisted, vaguely aware that there would be some things that would become almost certainly irreparable once Steven made it back to the capital. Alarm bells were screaming in her head; Juno could barely hear her own words. Instinct told her that she was seconds away from making a fateful decision…or _not_ making one, either possibility potentially locking the future into place depending on how she chose to act or not act, either possibility promising something she might not be able to deal with.

Steven almost scoffed at that. "And overstay my welcome? No. I shall see you in Velvet."

Her options narrowing, her barely-subdued sense of panic growing exponentially since her last adrenaline rush when she commanded a Valentine gunship to bury friend and foe alike in a storm of fire, Juno's gloved hand moved to her handgun even as she nodded into the shadows, trying to sound placating even as she started, "Steven…"

Despite his relatively youth, the inexperienced male major had excellent instincts. Instantly, he spun around, a pistol in his hand pointed at his fellow major faster than Juno could bring hers to bear. His expression was tightly controlled, betraying a sense of fear but also of determination. "Stay _right_ where you…"

His instincts weren't excellent enough.

With surgical precision not expected from a blade of such size, a large boomerang-kukri materialized from the darkness, swiftly cutting across his arm and severing the tendons across the forearm that allowed him to move his index finger, preventing him from pulling the trigger of his handgun single-handedly. A split-second later, before Steven could draw breath to scream, or even register the pain to scream, the metallic flash of the blade moved the kukri to his throat, and Steven suddenly felt a sharp, wet pain across his neck.

He tried to say something, to scream, to make sense out of anything, but he was only peripherally aware that he was suddenly on the ground, that he was fast losing unconsciousness, that his throat had been severed, that he was bleeding out, that he was choking on his own blood, that he was looking up at a lithe, Southern Gerudo girl holding a massive boomerang-kukri in her hand.

And, from the side, Juno would've watched Steven die with solemn conviction, except – in the presence of the dying major and the Southern Gerudo mercenaries who had done the dirty work for her – she had buried her face in her hands, coming close to a panic as she rapidly ventilated. "_Shit_!" she hissed, barely containing and stopping herself from kicking something hard in frustration at her own mismanagement of the situation. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_!"

That was stupid. That was incredibly, _irredeemably_ stupid. A decision born out of panic, a nod into the shadows before she even realized the fact, a desperate move to salvage everything she had worked for…and two Southern Gerudo mercenaries standing over the corpse of a Valentine major – his last breath escaped his throat, and he moved no more – to show for it. _What were you _thinking_, Juno?_

But scenario after scenario ran over in her mind, envisioning all the possibilities that could have occurred had Steven brought his report before the National Defense Committee, even if Juno came home basked in honor and pride for having ended the threat to Valent's war effort. None of them were pleasant, and there was no point in imagining the what-if's and what-could-have-been's anymore, not when Steven lay in a small pool of blood and only three shady characters to bear witness to his death.

Juno cursed in High Valentine under her breath. She could still salvage this. She could still hide the fact, salvage the entire situation.

It didn't help the bitter taste in her mouth.

Giving a wary look to the two Southern Gerudo mercenaries who stood unmoving and unflinching at Juno's momentary display of panic – both of them were impassive, as if chiseled out of stone – the major finally knelt beside Steven's body, fished through his pockets. There were few articles of consequence, much of it simply survival supplies, a small cookie in a plastic bag, additional ammunition for his handgun. Most importantly, however, his handheld computer was still on him, and – after a moment of hesitation – Juno slipped it out of his pockets and into her own. She had no intention of anyone finding the dead major by accident through the triangulation of his wireless device, and whatever data he had on the device could possibly be useful.

Expelling her breath shakily, Juno stood up, regarded the corpse lying motionless beneath her feet, a dead man whom she had just been working with minutes earlier. Despite her best efforts, a chill went down her spine. The intelligence business was black and dirty, no one denied that. It was subterfuge and backstabbing, and all officers involved were given an unspoken degree of leeway to prosecute their missions in any way they saw fit…so long as they didn't screw up. The command and control crew inside the mobile command center knew this, which was why they didn't bat an eye when Valentine men and women were sacrificed so they could kill their priority target. But actually outright killing a fellow intelligence officer without orders or approval? Juno couldn't but wonder if some unspoken line had just been crossed.

_You could've understood_, she thought resentfully, speaking to whatever might've passed for Steven's soul. _You could've seen the big picture, you tremendous _ass_. But you just had to let your misguided sense of self-righteousness get in the bloody way_.

There was no response. Dead men did not answer questions.

And when Juno could not bear to stare at the body any longer, she turned around, her mind already spinning in an attempt to figure out how she was going to contain and sort out the situation amongst her intelligence subordinates, to make sure they were all on the same page, to make sure there were no loose ends. "Dispose of the body," she snapped at the mercenaries, realizing that she was angry – even thought it had been her decision, a fact she was painfully aware of – that the two Gerudo had executed the kill. "Make it look like he was killed by zoran stragglers, just in case. Then I want you on the next helicopter ferrying troops to take control of the area." She scowled bitterly as she ascended the steps back to the mobile command center. "As far as I'm concerned, the investigation isn't over until we find a Hylian corpse."

* * *

**Exoria File #028  
Economic Impacts of the Second Continental War**

Officially, there was no clear victor of the Second Continental War, which ended without surrender or fanfare; the most devastating conflict in modern history came to a close with the quiet signing of the Truce of Newberg in 1455 a.s.r. following seven months of a three-way stalemate, and military forces across the continent packed up and returned home just as quietly. Most agree, however, that the unofficial victor of the Second Continental War was Hyrule, which had managed to claim custody practically half of the Death Mountains that all three countries had been fighting over. Gerudo, which had been in the process of industrializing, found its investment shares plummeting as the prospects of their ability to procure the resources necessary for industrialization faltered. Furthermore, further funds were required to suppress the Second Southern Gerudo Civil War, as Southern Gerudo declared the outcome of the Second Continental War as "a failure of rampant, uncoordinated liberalism and decadence"; this not only shifted a disproportional percentage of the national budget to defense and national security, but also tore apart an already shaky market. Valent, however, suffered the most due to the vast losses of mining infrastructure to the war, as well as the destabilization of resource distribution across its infrastructural setup, which had previously been held in place by a consistent supply of resources from the Death Mountains. An ambitious banking and economic program was put into place in 1454 a.s.r., which led to what was considered to be a post-war economic miracle. However, the program, too, required a sustainable source of funds and resources, to which Valent had no answer. The economy began to show signs of weakening before a collapse of the economic bubble in 1469 a.s.r., causing a significant decrease in the value of Valentine markets and assets, and a significant drop in standard of living. Hyrule, by contrast, benefited the most from the war, having secured a financial and industrial basis to implement significant economic, industrial, and social programs after the Second Continent War, which flourished under the leadership of King Spencer VI, great-grandfather to Crown Princess Zelda.

* * *

Author's Note: Oh, snap, an update in a month, and not more than half a year? What is this I don't even.

An update on the length of the Jormungand arc: With this update of Chapter Twenty-Seven, the current anticipated chapter on which the Jormungand arc will formally end is projected to be either Chapter Thirty-One or Chapter Thirty-Two (but likely the former). So I hope this alleviates some anxiety of when this storyarc will ever end. Things will come to a climax soon.

It bears mention that most of the firearms mentioned in _Exoria_ are, in fact, weapons in real life – save, of course, the iconic gunswords – except with altered names. The S80A1, used as a common standard infantry assault rifle by Valentine infantrymen, is the SA80 (specifically, the L85A1 variant used by the British armed forces). Some liberties were taken with the MSG10EBR; it is, in fact, the PSG1 sniper (specifically, its shorter and lighter MSG90 variant). Strictly speaking, however, the PSG1 is a fairly sophisticated sniper rifle for its time and best used in controlled urban environments, so a fictional variant (for a weapon with a fictional name) was created for the purposes of this story, giving the military variant of this sniper rifle the "enhanced battle rifle" designation. The KS-74 is, most likely to nobody's surprise, the AK-74 (not the AK-47, as I deemed that assault rifle to perhaps be a _little_ too old).

And, yes, the gunship in this chapter was the pre-2000 AC-130H.

Nyveni: _This is easily one of the best fanfictions I have ever read. Your writing is very good, although you trend more on the unwieldy and verbose side. One thing I learned from a Theater class I took is that if you leave the unimportant details out, you can A: let the audience imagine things the way they want, B: fill in the details as needed. It's the corollary to Chekov's Gun._

_Has anybody managed spaceflight, or at least worked out the principles of it? Are there any satellites in use, or do they use high-altitude surveillance drones for that purpose? And how is Exoria on aerodynamics compared to the real world? That is, if you've even decided any of this?_

_About the updates- I personally stop paying attention to update schedule deviation after a week or so. In this case it's been so long that I forgot a few plot details (and who the heck Steven was), but it was easy enough to remember them once I began reading._

My sincerest apologies for taking so long. I seriously doubt I could ever manage a chapter a week, but I suppose it's an admirable goal to aim for, even if I shall always fall short.

Spaceflight and nuclear physics are still sciences that are in the theoretical stages for the world of _Exoria_. In Chapter One, Morgan insinuates that the energy spikes in Valentine prior to their invasion could only be capable to "theoretical" nuclear power; the theory and the research exists, but hasn't been put into application due to certain technical limitations. The development of technology of _Exoria_ is fairly different from our world. Satellites don't exist, although high-altitude surveillance aircraft have been around for a while. The 1477 Krasa Incident, in fact, involved an (illegal) Hylian high-altitude stealth reconnaissance aircraft being shot down over Valentine airspace, requiring a highly successful extraction mission for the pilot conducted by the Hylian air force's TSAR 15 unit, which would shortly afterwards become the Hylian Special Security Group, or the SSG.

Spudcommando: _My god an update! I can see the all the key characters are converging on Jormugand, very interested to see how things play out from now on. The fact that neither of the three nations have limited to non existent intel on the Zorans seems borderline incompetence. If a huge disaffected minority population lived within, I would surely keep tabs on them._

The immediate issue wasn't that there was a "huge disaffected minority population" that "lived within". First off, it was historically accepted that the Zoran Accords had stripped the zorans of their teeth, and that limits placed upon their rights had severely hampered any ability for them to make any kind of retaliation. Slavery of zorans ended only 144 years ago. Formal segregation ended just under forty years ago (but guaranteed zorans only abridged rights afforded to human citizens). And no real active effort has been made to bridge the gap in the following four decades.

If we were to use the American Civil Rights Movement as an analogy, imagine if African-Americans still don't get the right to vote, don't have the right to possess firearms (although enforcement on this is very light), and generally live their entire lives in a cheap, rickety underwater facility with no means by which to create any kind of modern weapons (but otherwise remaining undisturbed by people on the surface). And then imagine – less than twenty years ago – a revolution that lasted less than a week hit the European Union, replacing it with a regime that completely locks down Europe into an isolationist government.

Intelligence efforts were kept on the zorans, but it was generally considered that the security measures enforced upon them ensure that the chances of them every doing anything positively disastrous would be as low as Ethiopia doing anything positively disastrous to the United States today. And for almost two decades, Hyrule and Gerudo focused an intense amount of intelligence efforts – both domestic and military – on issues that were far more important to them: The isolationist, military government that had suddenly turned a third of the continent into North Korea, continued unrest in Southern Gerudo, Hylian domestic terrorism. The general apathy towards zorans, combined with the events over the last two decades, has given them only a little more space to maneuver, but the zorans made the most of that. Intelligence agencies are not omnipotent, omniscient organizations. They can only do so much with so much manpower and so much funding. Their attention span can only be so wide.


End file.
